Curious as a Cat (Esthar Chronicles 1)
by Dee Moyza
Summary: For much of her life, Quistis hasn't been particularly inquisitive. But an unusual sighting on the skyways of Esthar rekindles her curiosity and leads to an encounter that renews her sense of purpose and passion for knowledge, and just might help her find her place in the world. Post-game, multi-chapter. [Rated T for language and some suggestive content]
1. Chapter 1

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

The Esthar sun beat down on Quistis and reflected off of the tall, glass-faced buildings surrounding her. She felt the skin on her neck and shoulders prickle beneath its rays and squirmed as a drop of sweat slid down her torso. She was lost. She hadn't worried about finding her way back when she stepped off of the skyways onto the paved streets below, figuring the skyways must run throughout the city. But she'd found out otherwise, and through the architecture looming around her, she could see neither the skyways nor the Presidential Palace.

If only she hadn't left the palace at all! She'd been in Esthar for several days with Squall and Zell, negotiating a handful of lucrative SeeD contracts with Laguna and Kiros; and with Rinoa, who had several appointments with Dr. Odine to keep. Laguna had been gracious enough to put up the entire group in a large apartment in the palace's guest wing. While Quistis had marveled at the apartment's artful combination of comfort and technological innovation, Zell had simply flopped onto the couch in the common area with a big grin and turned on the monitor on the wall across from him.

Negotiations had wrapped up the day before, and Zell flew back to Balamb Garden early in the morning to obtain final approval and the necessary signatures from Xu and Cid. Rinoa had one last round of tests to be done at Odine's laboratory, and Squall accompanied her, leaving Quistis alone with a day free of obligations.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Rinoa offered, pulling an Estharian robe over her shorts and tank top. She'd been advised by Kiros that since Esthar recognized her as a sorceress, travelling to and from Odine's laboratory would best be done incognito. "It's not particularly interesting, but sometimes it's fun to push Odine's buttons a little."

"She almost made him cry yesterday," Squall walked out of his room and stood next to Rinoa, smiling down at her. Quistis pursed her lips and tried not to snicker, not only because he looked ridiculous in traditional Estharian garb, but also because he couldn't hide the pride in his voice when he talked about Rinoa's antics.

"He asked for it! I've told him a hundred times before I wasn't going to stand for that kind of test. He can get as angry as he wants, I'm not giving in." She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail and was trying unsuccessfully to push it completely under the headdress. "Seriously! Are all Estharian women just bald under these things?"

"As tempting as antagonizing Odine sounds, I think I'll leave him to you two," Quistis said and stepped forward to help Rinoa, tucking stray strands of dark hair under the back of the headdress.

"Thanks!" Rinoa grinned. "So, if you're not coming with us, I assume you have other plans for your day off?"

"Not really. I'll probably just stay in and relax, or I might do a little shopping before the afternoon heat sets in."

"Oh, if you end up by the shopping mall, there's a really good sweet shop just a little ways beyond." As Rinoa was jotting down the address for Quistis, Squall opened the front door and waited for Rinoa to walk through. As she became more animated about the sweets, however, he took hold of her elbow and guided her toward the door.

"Just don't get anything chocolate," Rinoa continued on her way out, "'cause the sun'll melt it into a huge mess. All right, I'm coming!"

Quistis chuckled and looked around the now-silent apartment. She sat down and flicked through the available programming on the monitor, but decided on nothing. She fished a book out of her luggage and read a few pages, but found she couldn't concentrate. She hated having nothing essential to do, especially when everyone around her seemed to be a blur of activity. She watched the clock on the monitor count away another minute, then she rose and left the apartment, grabbing her key and the directions to the sweet shop from the table beside the door on her way out.

Quistis mulled over the hastily scribbled arrows and abbreviations, then tucked the directions in her pocket and weaved between the Estharians who walked along the skyway. Some turned to look at her, but since Esthar began relaxing its policies on international visitors, many Estharians were getting used to seeing the occasional foreigner in their midst.

As she walked, Quistis wondered how Rinoa had stumbled upon the sweet shop in the first place. Rinoa was always so curious, so eager to learn about her new surroundings, even if she wasn't always welcome in those surroundings. It sometimes made Quistis feel self-conscious. Here she was, twenty-one years old, and she had seen very little of the world that was not related to SeeD missions or official Garden business. She had never been particularly inquisitive - growing up in Garden, she learned early on that it was not her place to ask questions. And now, even if she wanted to change that, she doubted any scrap of curiosity had survived the years of conditioning.

As her spirits began to sink and her shoulders slumped, a flash of orange in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Quistis leaned forward and squinted in the direction she'd seen it move, and after a moment, it showed again.

It was a cat.

That in itself was unusual. Quistis had never seen a stray cat on the streets of Esthar before, a fact she hadn't considered until this one showed up. She didn't even know whether the Estharians kept cats as pets at all. This particular cat became even more intriguing when she saw what it carried. It wore a bright blue harness, with an extra loop at the top, through which was shoved a rolled-up piece of paper. Quistis had heard of dogs and even some birds that had been used as messengers in the past, but never a cat. She'd figured cats would be too difficult to train for that sort of work.

The cat zig-zagged between the feet of the leisurely Estharians, who didn't spare it a second glance. Quistis tried her best to follow it, bumping into strangers and excusing herself without ever meeting their eyes. When she arrived at the intersection next to the shopping mall and watched the cat head in a different direction, she hesitated for a moment. Shopping for souvenirs and supplies was a perfectly fine, but dreadfully predictable, way to spend her day; even a visit to a candy store hardly rated high on excitement. The cat and its cargo had captured her imagination and she wanted to see, at the very least, what kind of home or business employed a delivery cat. Curiosity she'd thought long extinguished flared to life inside her, and she felt it only appropriate that it had been rekindled by a cat.

She passed the shopping mall and headed down a flight of stairs to a quieter section of the skyway.

She lost track of the cat when it slipped through an alley too narrow and crowded with discarded crates and pallets for Quistis to easily pass through. Emerging from the alley at last, Quistis turned in a full circle, scanning the street for the cat, vaguely noticing that the worn asphalt beneath her feet was much hotter than the surface of the skyways she'd left behind. She walked a few blocks farther, calling softly to the cat and peering into every niche and alley she passed. Finally admitting defeat, she turned and walked back toward the alley she'd come through. Squeezing past a stack of crates and stepping out onto the sidewalk, Quistis realized that that was as much as she remembered of the route she'd taken while following the cat.

She stood in the middle of the empty street and tried to orient herself. At some point, she'd abandoned the skyways for the ground level of Esthar City, where the buildings dwarfed her and obscured any point of reference. The neighborhood around her was definitely not as affluent as those along the skyways, but it didn't appear derelict or hostile. Perhaps she could ask a local for directions. But as she passed the darkened windows of business after business, Quistis realized that she managed to get lost in the city at the worst time of day. Due to the region's climate, many businesses in Esthar chose to close for several hours in the afternoon, during the heat of the day, while residents retired to their homes or to large indoor cafés for lengthy lunches.

She wandered up one street and down the next, fighting a rising wave of panic and growing thirstier by the minute. The heat rippled up from the ground and she squinted into the brightness, searching for street signs, business plaques, unusual storefronts, anything that might seem familiar or give an indication of where she was. Her head ached and her stomach turned, and at one corner, she leaned over a garbage can and retched, producing little more than a light froth. She licked her lips, only for them to feel even drier seconds later. Stumbling along the sidewalk, she slumped against a building and wondered if, after all she'd been through, this is how she'd meet her end.

All because of a stupid cat.

No, all because of her stupid curiosity. Garden had done well to discourage it in their students. She wished she'd never doubted that.

The hiss of automatic doors sliding open startled her, and she turned her head to see an Estharian man leaving a building with his arms full of books. He glanced in her direction and nodded in greeting, but when she didn't respond, he walked over.

"Miss?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face. "Miss, are you all right?"

Quistis shook her head. "Lost," she croaked, her dry throat burning with the effort.

"Oh my, come on." The man took Quistis by the arm and led her back to the building he'd come from. "Let's get you someplace cool and get you some water." They entered one set of doors and walked through a small vestibule to another. When these inner doors slid open, cool air rushed out, sending a violent shiver through Quistis' body. The man led her to a bench and instructed her to sit.

"Argider," he called. "Argider, I need your help."

Quistis barely registered the appearance of another man, noticing only that he was dressed more casually than the other. She heard the two men speak to each other, but couldn't make out what they said. Before long, she was presented with a wet cloth, and a paper cup full of water was pressed to her lips.

"Drink slowly," the second man told her. "Small sips. You don't want to throw it all up again."

Quistis did as she was told, feeling her stomach cramp and turn when the water reached it. She mopped her face and neck with the cloth, her hot skin stinging beneath its chill. Already, though, she could feel her body cooling down, her breath coming a bit easier.

The first man fanned her with a pamphlet, expediting her cooling process, and spoke again. "Do you think I should call a doctor?"

"Hold off on that for a minute. She should be fine once she gets cool and hydrated." He held the cup to Quistis' mouth again. "Once more. Small sips."

Her eyes finally focusing in the dim light of the building, she dared look at the man holding the paper cup. Ill though she was, Quistis' heart leapt at what she saw. He was still a young man, perhaps in his late twenties, with tanned skin and dark eyes and hair. He was quite handsome, though his features were drawn in concern at the moment. Quistis blinked at him and managed a grin. She sipped at the water, and this time, she reached out and took the cup from his hand. He sighed and visibly relaxed.

"You're going to be fine," he said softly. "Ernal here said you told him you were lost," he continued, nodding toward the other man. "Is that so?"

Quistis swallowed, grateful that her throat seemed to be working right again. "Yes," she answered. "I've never been in this neighborhood before."

"That's clear. It looks as though you've hardly been in _any_ Estharian neighborhoods before. You're a foreigner, right?"

"Yes."

"From where? Galbadia? Dollet?"

"Balamb."

The man's eyes widened. "No wonder you're in such rough shape. The Estharian summer must be a total shock compared to Balamb's."

Before the man could ask any more questions, the doors hissed open and a woman walked through, a bag slung across her body and a stack of notebooks in her arms. Argider rose and greeted her. She spoke to him quietly, gesturing toward the back of the building, and he nodded. Excusing himself from Quistis' company, he disappeared deeper into the building with the woman. Ernal, meanwhile, stopped fanning. He handed her the pamphlet so that she might continue to cool herself, then gathered his books in his arms and headed toward the door.

"He won't be a minute," he said of the other man. "You should rest here until you feel better." He smiled. "Well, I must be on my way. A speedy recovery to you, miss."

Quistis watched him leave, shortly followed by the woman, who now bore two books atop her pile of notebooks. The handsome man returned and sat down beside Quistis. "Sorry for the interruption. Where were we? You told me you were from Balamb, but I don't believe I've asked your name yet."

"My name is Quistis. Quistis Trepe."

The man repeated her name. "Unusual," he said, "but elegant. I'm Argider Cato." He shook her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Quistis, although I wish the circumstances hadn't been so dire."

"Me too."

"So, tell me, how in the world did you end up here? Foreigners don't usually go past the shopping mall, let alone leave the skyways altogether."

Quistis looked down and felt her face grow warm even under the sunburn. "I was ... following someone." Not a complete lie.

"Oh? I suppose you're not at liberty to provide details."

"Well, it wasn't exactly some _one_ , it was some _thing_." She stammered a bit before throwing her hands up and blurting out the truth. "I was following a cat!"

Argider's mouth twisted and she could tell he was trying not to laugh.

"I was just planning on going shopping today," Quistis continued, "when I saw this cat running through the crowd. It was wearing a blue harness and looked like it had a note attached to it. I guess I just wanted to see where this messenger cat worked."

"Oh, you must mean Wilbur." Argider broke into a full grin. "He works for an architect a few blocks over. Clients send specifications, and the architect sends back blueprints for their review. It's not the most efficient system, but it is memorable, and business seems good for the architect."

 _Wilbur?_ Well, that was one mystery solved. For the other, Quistis studied her surroundings. From where she sat, she could only see a large wooden desk, and rows of bookshelves beyond. It looked like a library, and Argider confirmed that when she asked.

"The main library at the city center isn't convenient for everyone," he explained. "This branch is also popular with scholars, mainly due to its very specific Special Collections section." He stood up. "Speaking of which, I have some work I need to get back to, unfortunately. But, please, rest here as long as you like, at least until the afternoon heat passes. There's a water dispenser behind the front desk, if you need any more. Just let me know when you're ready to leave and I'll give you directions back to 'civilization'. Can I get you anything else before I head to the back?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Quistis replied, and watched Argider disappear among the bookshelves.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Through the glass doors, Quistis watched the neighborhood outside the library come to life again. Shops reopened, clerks set signs and displays on the sidewalk, people walked past. Quistis noted with amusement that the Estharians in this neighborhood still wore the traditional robes, but had them hemmed a few inches higher than their skyway-dwelling counterparts, presumably to avoid accumulating dirt from the asphalt and concrete.

No one else came into the library while she sat on the bench near the entrance, and from what she could tell, the only librarian in the building was Argider. When she began to feel rested, she rose from the bench, wincing at the soreness in her legs. With careful steps, she proceeded farther into the library. She passed through the bookshelves, skimming the titles displayed on each, noticing nothing out of the ordinary until she reached the third row. There, the shelf to her right consisted only of books pertaining to monster anatomy; to her left, she encountered tome after tome dedicated to the history and usage of blue magic. She pulled one of the books off the shelf and flipped through it. It was incredibly old, and much of the ink had faded from its pages, but she was surprised to find that it cataloged far more than the sixteen skills she currently knew. She'd always suspected Garden's instruction in blue magic was limited, but she'd never realized to what extent.

Replacing the book, she continued toward the back of the library. Soon, she came to the end of the bookshelves and instead wandered among rows of metal shelves smelling strongly of disinfectant and filled with jars of items suspended in preservation fluid. Upon closer inspection, Quistis realized that each jar contained a part of a monster's body. Were these part of the Special Collections Argider mentioned? And were they connected to the extensive reference materials on blue magic?

Quistis smiled. Of all the places she could've ended up after getting lost, this library was eerily appropriate. Her opinion toward Wilbur became more charitable.

Past the final shelf, Argider sat at a desk, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, alternately frowning at a stack of papers and entering data into the computer in front of him. Quistis rapped lightly on the shelf next to her to announce her presence. He looked up, his frown fading as he recognized her.

"You look like you're feeling better," he remarked.

"Quite. Thank you so much for your help."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad Ernal found you before your condition deteriorated. This heat can be deadly, even to native Estharians."

Quistis made a small sound of agreement, but his words barely registered amid the questions swirling in her mind. She gestured toward the shelf. "Are these the Special Collections you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes. We have a large collection of research material on blue magic, as well as a small laboratory in which we analyze items to see if they teach any new skills. If so, we then experiment to find the best method by which to introduce the skill-bearing item to a blue mage's system." He pointed to a floor-to-ceiling shelf behind him, lined with boxes and canisters, which reminded Quistis of the shelves behind the counter at a pharmacy.

"Method?"

In response, Argider picked up a small bottle on the desk, from which he shook a handful of caplets. The caplets contained a black gel, which sparkled in brilliant shades of purple and blue when it caught the light. The substance looked familiar to Quistis, almost like …

"A black hole," she said.

"A misnomer, considering it hasn't sucked us all in." Argider chuckled. "I'm surprised you recognized it. We managed to break the item down into a substance we could administer in several doses to a blue mage, teaching them –"

"Degenerator. One of the most useful skills in a blue mage's repertoire. It's saved my life a few times." Quistis looked Argider in the eyes and smiled as she watched realization dawn on his face.

"Wait a minute. You mean, you're a blue mage?"

Quistis nodded. "I didn't have anything like these pills, though. It would've made learning skills a lot easier."

Argider placed the caplets back in the bottle. "As far as I know, this method of delivery has only been developed here. So, if the items weren't available as capsules or liquids, how _did_ you learn the skills?"

"Honestly? With each of the organic items, I just … ate a little bit of it." Quistis bit her lip, both in embarrassment at what she now saw as borderline barbarism and in amusement at Argider's expression.

"Ate it? The Caterchipillar's spider web?"

"Sticky, but flavorless."

"Mystery fluid?"

"Very acidic, but drinkable."

"Malboro tentacles?"

"Slimy and … _chewy._ " Quistis grimaced at the memory, a shiver running up and down her spine. Argider stared at her a moment longer before bursting into laughter.

"That's incredible," he said, once he'd caught his breath. "You, Ms. Trepe, have my utmost respect."

Quistis shrugged. "I did it out of necessity. I often had neither the luxury of time nor the means by which to experiment with methods of absorption."

Argider's grin disappeared, and he crossed his arms on his desk and leaned forward. "What about the non-organic items?" he asked in a low voice, as if coaxing out a confession. "You know, bullets and cannons and the like?"

"Well, the easiest way for me was to file them down a bit, mix the shavings with some water, and drink it. I'm not going to lie, it was very unpleasant, but the skills I learned were valuable."

"Amazing." Argider sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "I've always wondered what systems foreign blue mages used to absorb the items and skills, but I never thought I'd have a chance to ask one. And now, I hear that you don't have a system at all, you just take the item right in. You're pretty tough."

Quistis looked at the floor, suddenly bashful. She knew she was strong; she just wasn't used to other people recognizing that. "Like I said, I only did what was necessary."

"That makes it no less amazing. By the time I began my training, the government had already approved the usage of pills for learning ten basic skills, so I was spared the … unique experiences you described."

"How did you become involved with blue magic research?"

"Curiosity and luck, mostly. I didn't even know I was a blue mage until I joined the army and was tested for the skill. After serving a few years, I decided I wanted to develop my skill further, so I enrolled at the university and studied under Dr. Vardan, the blue magic expert who pioneered the development of the pills. He had an extensive collection of old reference materials on the subject, which were invaluable to my education. As he was preparing to retire, I suggested we make the materials available to the public; he approached the Estharian government with the idea, and they granted him the funds to start this library. Dr. Vardan died a few years ago, and the library passed into the stewardship of the government." He paused and looked at the papers scattered across his desk. "As such," he continued, "my role here has also changed. As the senior librarian and only blue mage on the staff, I am responsible for conducting blue magic research on the government's behalf. It's not a bad job, and it allows me to do what I like best."

Quistis considered the documents on his desk and the binders filled to bursting stacked near the computer. "Oh. Is it all right for me to be here?" she asked.

"Of course," Argider replied without hesitation. "As I said, this library exists for the public. All of the information here is declassified."

"Wow." She turned to look back at the bookshelves. "You seem to have a comprehensive collection here. I'd love to look through it myself, but I'm afraid I haven't got the time."

Argider thought for a moment. "Do you visit Esthar often?"

"Only a few times a year. And usually only for several days at a time. Why do you ask?"

"I wouldn't mind loaning you some material. Like any library, we stock multiple copies of many books, and I see no harm in offering an extended loan to a fellow blue mage."

"I really appreciate your offer, but I can't accept it."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I'm not Estharian. I don't support the operation of this library with my taxes. It wouldn't be fair for me to use it."

"What else?"

"Furthermore, I …" Quistis shifted her weight, trying but failing to come up with another reason to decline Argider's offer.

Argider smiled. "In the years I've worked here, I've had students and soldiers and curious civilians stop by, and maybe a handful of novice blue mages. Never have I met a blue mage so devoted to their skill as to eat a Malboro tentacle. And even after that, you remain interested in learning more about blue magic. I really respect that, and I want to help you." He turned toward his computer and pulled up the library catalog.

"Thank you."

"Besides," he said, glancing sideways at her, "I'm quite sure Balamb Garden will appreciate any knowledge you can take back to them."

Quistis stiffened, fear knotting in her stomach. How did he know she was from Garden? Had she let any sensitive information slip? Should she deny it? How?

"Relax," he continued, "your identity is safe with me. Our president seems to have become quite amicable with Balamb Garden since that sorceress incident three years ago, and I can see why. You SeeDs have been well worth your price in the situations we've contracted you for." He typed something into the computer and scrolled through a long list.

"How did you know I was from Balamb Garden?"

"Simple deduction, really. You told me you're from Balamb, and you told me you're a blue mage." He shrugged. "There's only one organization in Balamb that trains and employs blue mages, and that's Garden. I just assumed that since you travel to Esthar several times a year, it must be on SeeD business."

Quistis sighed, mentally flogging herself for sharing any information at all. However, she was intrigued by Argider's ability to draw an accurate conclusion from such small details. He seemed quick-witted, and well-versed in his area of expertise. At the very least, he seemed like someone she could talk to without having to rein in her vocabulary, without having to disguise her passion for subjects others found dull. Perhaps she should accept his offer, and perhaps she should find a way to visit Esthar more often, and for longer periods.

"Perfect," Argider said, and Quistis worried for a moment that he might be able to read her mind as well. "It looks like all of the books I want to lend you are currently available." He rose from his chair and walked toward the bookshelves. "Come on, let's get you started."

He grinned like a schoolboy as he pulled the books from the shelves, and as he handed each of them to her, he excitedly told her what they covered. He seemed genuinely interested in the subject, and genuinely pleased to have someone to share it with. Quistis gradually relaxed, and as the weight in her arms accumulated, she caught some of Argider's excitement. For the first time in years, she felt as if she had a purpose, vague though it was at the moment, outside of her SeeD duties. She had an opportunity to learn, to grow again. Garden had long ago molded her into what they needed her to be, and in recent months she felt her as if life and work had stagnated. This chance discovery, the result of a split-second decision, promised to breathe new life into the embers of her heart. And she was determined to remain open to that promise.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The sun had sunk behind the buildings around them, plunging the street into shadow and triggering the sensors on the streetlights. As offices closed, restaurants opened, spilling light onto the sidewalk and filling the air with exotic and appetizing aromas. Several people greeted Argider in passing, some by name, and in this neighborhood, all of them cast curious glances at Quistis. Argider simply replied to those who asked that she was an unlucky tourist that had gotten turned around, and most of them expressed sympathy and wished her a good evening before continuing to their destinations.

Eventually, a staircase came into view, leading to a section of the skyway. "There's a lift station not far from here," Argider said. He handed her a slip of paper. "I've written the directions to and from the library and the city center, so when you come to return the books, you won't have to repeat your ordeal."

Quistis laughed. "I appreciate it. I feel so silly for getting lost. For blindly following a _cat_ and not paying attention to my surroundings. Very un-SeeD-like. My superiors would be furious if they knew."

"Do they have to know?"

"Of course not." She nodded to the books in her arms, which she'd insisted on carrying despite Argider's protests. "Besides, I think it all worked out pretty well for me."

They stopped at the steps to the lift and, unable to shake her hand, Argider bowed slightly toward her. "Well, Quistis, it truly was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise."

"I hope to see you when you return the books, but if you have any questions or concerns before then, please, don't hesitate to contact me." He handed her a business card. "Now, just take this lift to the Industrial District stop, where you can transfer to another lift headed to the shopping mall. Until next time." He waited until the lift arrived, then waved to her and started walking back.

As the shield materialized around the lift, Quistis craned her neck to catch sight of him walking away, then settled in for the ride.

The lights of the city center seemed too bright to her now, and she squinted into the glare of a shopping mall terminal as she purchased an elixir to treat her sunburn. Around her, people chattered and children shouted, terminals beeped and lifts hummed overhead. She already missed the cool quiet of the library, the smells of wood and old paper and, farther back, metal and disinfectant. All comforting, all controlled. She shifted the books in her arms, and as she waited for the next lift toward the Presidential Palace, she silently rehearsed how she'd word her request when she asked Squall – and, later, Cid and Xu – for permission to take a sabbatical.


	2. Chapter 2

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

Quistis stepped through the door into a nearly silent apartment. On the couch, Rinoa was curled up, asleep, her head resting on Squall's chest. Squall had one arm draped around Rinoa, and rubbed her shoulder absently while he read a magazine laid open across his lap. The monitor on the wall across from them was muted, the end credits of a movie scrolling across the display. On the floor beside the couch, Angelo also snoozed, next to a small pile of empty takeout containers. Squall looked up as Quistis entered, then went back to his article.

"I take it you found something to do after all," he said. It was a general statement, not a rebuke, but perhaps a veiled inquiry. Quistis set the books on the table beside the door as quietly as possible and uncapped the elixir bottle. She took a swig of the medicine and felt her skin cool down considerably; she poured some of the remaining liquid into her palm and smoothed it over her face and arms to eliminate the remaining traces of sunburn.

"I decided to explore the city a bit," she said, hoping to ease into her discovery of the library and, ultimately, her request for time off.

"Good for you." Squall was clearly not in the mood to converse.

"By the way, where's Zell?"

"He said there was a storm off the coast of Balamb that he didn't feel comfortable flying through. He'll be in early tomorrow morning." Squall's gaze snapped down when Rinoa moaned softly. Likely roused by his voice, she stirred and sat up. She blinked a few times, then gave Quistis a sleepy grin.

"Welcome back," she said.

"I'm sorry," said Quistis. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry, you didn't. Anyway, I didn't want to sleep the whole evening away." Rinoa stretched, then squinted at the monitor. "Wow, it's almost nine already?" As she reached up to rub her eyes, Quistis noticed a lozenge-shaped patch of red welts on the back of her wrist.

"Bangle testing?"

Rinoa looked at the welts as if she'd forgotten they were there, then grimaced. "Yeah. It's not as bad as it looks, though. Once the bangle comes off, most of the pain goes away."

"I'm guessing you didn't make Odine cry today."

"I never got the chance! The nasty jerk distracted me with some paperwork while one of his assistants slapped the bangle on me. It really surprised me, so I screamed." She grinned. "That's when Squall threatened to wring Odine's neck."

Quistis raised her eyebrows and turned an inquisitive gaze onto Squall. He glanced up briefly. "Of course I didn't do it," he said, then mumbled, "Can't even find his neck with that ridiculous collar he wears."

Quistis laughed and Rinoa nudged Squall with her shoulder before getting up and collecting the food containers. She stepped over a waking Angelo, who yawned and stretched, then trotted after her. Quistis used the momentary levity to broach the topic of her leave. "So, Squall," she said, "since you're so obviously in a charitable mindset, I'd like to talk to you about taking a leave of absence from Garden."

He closed his magazine and turned to face her. "Why are you asking me? You know I don't have final approval over those things."

"Yes, but you are in charge of dispatching SeeDs for missions, and I didn't know whether you had any lined up for me in the near future."

Squall's eyes narrowed. "This is sudden. What happened out there today?"

"Nothing unusual," Quistis lied. "I did, however, stumble upon a facility that specializes in blue magic research, and I thought –"

"What're these?" Rinoa piped up. Quistis winced. She'd forgotten Rinoa's tendency to gravitate toward the printed word. " _Blue Magic Theory and Application_? _History of Blue Mages_? _A Comprehensive Study of the Efficacy of Skills Items Relative to the Maturity of the Creature from Which They are Sourced_? Where did you find these? It's like they were written just for you." She picked up a book and flipped through the pages.

"At a library," Quistis answered, then turned back to Squall. "The facility I mentioned is a library with a collection that specializes in materials related to blue magic. I spoke to one of the librarians today and he offered me an extended loan on the items Rinoa is looking at."

"Go on."

"He said I could return the books at my convenience, and he would loan me more. However, the collection is so vast, and I visit Esthar so infrequently these days, I feel that I may benefit more by taking time away from Garden to devote myself completely to the study of my skill. According to what I've seen in those books, what Garden has taught me barely scratches the surface."

Squall considered this. "That sounds promising," he said at last, "but you're sure this library is legitimate? Who is the librarian you spoke to?"

"Argider Cato." Rinoa read his name from the business card she found tucked inside one of the books. She looked at Quistis. "Right?"

Quistis nodded. "He's a librarian and a blue mage. The library is operated by the Estharian government, and he not only manages the collection, but conducts research for them as well."

"Really? I wonder if Laguna might know him."

"I highly doubt Laguna knows anyone like that," Squall said dryly. He walked over to Rinoa and took the card from her hand, turning it over as if that would yield more clues.

"You're right. But what about Kiros? He might know something, or at least someone we can ask to verify Argider's identity."

"That's a great idea," Quistis said, reclaiming ownership of the business card. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, when we deliver the contracts."

"In the meantime," Rinoa said, heading toward the computer, "let's see what we can find out about this Mr. Cato."

"That's not necessary. I'm sure Kiros will –"

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! You can take what you find out here and check it with Kiros, too." She typed Argider's name into the search field and clicked on the first result, a page run by the Estharian government that featured a short biography and photograph of Argider. "Oooh!" she squealed.

"What is it?" Squall asked.

"Wow, he has got some amazing … credentials."

"Like what?" Squall moved toward her and Rinoa furiously scrolled down the page, looking for the actual credentials and finding them just in time.

"It says here he was a level three blue mage with the Esthar Army before obtaining an advanced degree in the field from Esthar University. He studied under the foremost blue magic scholar and is considered an authority on the subject."

"Impressive. He seems legitimate. Still, it would be best to check with someone who's worked with him directly." Squall took the mouse away from Rinoa and began scrolling upward. "What was his name, again?"

"Argider Ca—" Quistis tried to answer quickly, but Squall had already reached the top of the page. When he saw the picture, his eyes widened, and he grinned over his shoulder at Quistis.

"I'm sure the history and application of blue magic skills is very interesting, indeed," he said.

Quistis felt herself blush. It was true that Argider was very attractive, but she knew in her heart that that was not her primary motivation for wanting to study in his company. A secondary one, perhaps – a far, far distant secondary one – but the realization that even someone as usually dense as Squall could see through to this motivation mortified her.

Squall chuckled as Rinoa wrested control of the mouse from him and scrolled down from Argider's picture, only to peek at it again when Squall turned to face Quistis directly. "In all seriousness," he said, "this would be a good opportunity to learn more about your skill, for yourself and for Garden. I see no problem with using an extended leave for such a purpose. Let's just make sure we can verify this man's – Cato's – credentials first. Then I'll be able to vouch for the practicality of your leave request, if Xu or Cid asks."

Quistis nodded and thanked him, but noticed that he still wore the shadow of a smirk as he walked away.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"Ah, yes, Mr. Cato." Kiros nodded approvingly when Quistis asked if he knew Argider. "I'm surprised you two hadn't met yet."

"Our paths crossed only by accident," Quistis replied. She told Kiros of the events of the previous day, omitting the more embarrassing details. "I am considering taking a period of leave from Balamb Garden to immerse myself in the materials the library offers. However, I wanted to verify Argider's credentials, simply to ensure I'm not wasting my time taking recommendations from someone untrustworthy."

"A prudent decision. But you don't have to worry. I can personally assure you that not only is Argider trustworthy, but very well-informed, as well. I met him when he was a soldier, and over the years, he has become a regular at many government conferences."

Quistis grinned, relieved. "That's very good to hear. Thank you, Kiros."

"You're quite welcome. However, may I ask you a question? How long is the standard leave of absence from Balamb Garden?"

"The standard is two weeks. With my seniority, I may be able to request three."

"Will that be enough time?"

Quistis shrugged. "It will have to be."

"Have you considered requesting a sabbatical instead?"

"That was actually my initial intention, but I don't think I could make a proper argument for one. Mine is a relatively selfish pursuit."

Kiros leaned back in his desk chair and crossed his arms. He was quiet for several moments, thinking. "It doesn't have to be. I've heard that you were once an instructor at Balamb Garden, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"So you are familiar with the development of curricula?"

"Passably."

"What if you used what you learn here to create a plan of instruction for blue mages at Balamb Garden? Perhaps for a relatively simple but enriched introductory course. That way, Garden gets something out of the deal, while you are free to research to your heart's content."

Quistis stared at Kiros, and he smiled at her in return. His proposal was the kind of perfectly diplomatic but practical solution she hadn't dared consider. After the way her brief career as an educator had ended, she doubted Garden would take another chance on her. She looked at the floor and said as much to Kiros.

"Maybe not," he said, "but isn't it worth a try? Perhaps it will be your chance at redemption. Goodness knows, you've waited long enough."

 _Waited._ That was the problem. It seemed that ever since she'd returned from the battle with Ultimecia, Quistis had been waiting for her life to begin again, for opportunities to open up to her like they had when she was younger. No more. She straightened in her seat and met Kiros' eyes. "You're right, it _is_ time I tried something different. After all, I'll never know unless I try."

"'And those who never try will never know,'" Kiros added. "It's something a wise – ahem – _entertaining_ man told me, many years ago."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Quistis sat at one end of the varnished wood table in the Balamb Garden conference room, opposite Cid and Xu. Each of her superiors was going over the items from a pair of identical file folders Quistis had provided them. In addition to her official request for a sabbatical, she had included in each folder letters from both Kiros and Argider asserting that the environment and resources available to Quistis during her leave would be more than sufficient for her to achieve her goal, as well as a sample curriculum she was confident she could develop based on the materials she'd read already. Despite her preparedness, however, she was nervous. She had difficulty sitting still and kept her hands folded in her lap, resisting the urge to tug at the collar of her SeeD uniform, which suddenly felt very constrictive.

"Hmm." Xu finished reading the documents first and looked at Quistis. Outside of this room, the two of them were close friends, but now Xu's gaze was nothing but businesslike. "This is a very compelling request," she said. "We have known for some time that Balamb Garden's instruction in specialty skills is little more than adequate, but we haven't had the resources to remedy that situation."

"Quite right," Cid mumbled, squinting through his glasses at the sample curriculum.

"However," Xu continued, "you are a SeeD above all, and a highly experienced and valuable member of our organization. Should we approve your request, that would leave us with one less operative for six months, potentially leading to a loss of revenue, not to mention a security concern."

"I spoke to Squall about that before I prepared my request," Quistis offered. "He told me that as matters stand now, he doesn't believe a break in my service as a SeeD would critically impact the continued operation of Garden."

"I'm well aware of what Leonhart thinks, but he's not the one making the decision. In regard to combat, we may be able to function in your absence, Quistis, but as a financial matter —"

"We will be just fine," Cid said, closing his folder. "There are no large-scale conflicts in the world right now that would threaten Garden or require the deployment of large numbers of SeeDs. Furthermore, many of the requests for SeeD that we have been receiving have been for short-term missions. We have more than enough operatives to fulfill those contracts and collect payment from clients."

"Understood." As Xu deferred to Cid's judgment, Quistis noticed her posture relax. Xu had confided in Quistis more than once that she often did not entirely believe what she said during deliberations, but at some point in her career, she had taken on the role of devil's advocate, arguing the negative side of any decision to make sure Cid understood all the risks involved before delivering the final word on the matter.

Cid turned to Quistis. "From the materials you have provided, this sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you and for Balamb Garden. However, especially because this sabbatical will keep you abroad for an extended period, I must make several stipulations." He patted his pockets in search of a pen, and before he could ask, Xu handed him one of her own. "First," he continued, jotting down notes on the back of his folder, "I will require a biweekly progress report from you. It needn't be lengthy, but I need to know that you are committed to completing the proposed curriculum within the span of your sabbatical. Second, you must maintain an adequate level of battle preparedness. This is, of course, impossible for us to gauge from here, but bear your safety in mind. I don't care how much Esthar seems like a technological utopia, there are delinquent elements in any society, and your identity as a SeeD makes you a target. And my final requirement ties into the previous: should Garden find itself involved in an international conflict, you will be immediately called back into service and expected on the next flight out of Esthar. Are we in agreement?"

"Yes, sir." Quistis felt excitement rise in her chest and tried to keep it from affecting her voice. She didn't succeed. "Thank you very much, sir."

"Xu will draw up a contract complete with the dates of your sabbatical and Garden's terms." He slid the folder to Xu and rose from his seat. "When she does, come to my office, and we will discuss the issues of lodging and payment during your leave."

Xu gathered the folders and waited for Cid to leave before she broke into a smile. "Congratulations, Quistis," she said. "If anyone deserves a break from this place, it's you."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"A sabbatical?" Zell screeched. He had arrived, as usual, late to the conversation. Quistis had been telling Squall and Rinoa about Cid's decision over breakfast the following morning when Zell had settled into the seat beside her and latched on to the first interesting word he heard.

"It's for research," Squall explained, not looking up from the two-day-old Deling City newspaper he was reading. Beside him, Rinoa had filched the page with the daily puzzle and now hunched over it, frowning at the clues and gnawing on the end of her pencil.

"But, but, what if we need you here at Garden?"

"That's highly unlikely," Quistis said. "There aren't any large-scale conflicts at the moment, so I doubt all of Garden will be in the field at once. I'm sure Squall and Xu can handle things while I'm gone."

"I guess ... So, what exactly will you be researching?"

"Blue magic. It seems there's a lot that I don't know about it, even though I use it myself – its history, development, the variety of skills that are available. While we were in Esthar, I met someone whose knowledge can help me fill the gaps in my own."

"Argider Cato," Rinoa said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Argi – what?" Zell's brow furrowed. "And why is Rinoa gettin' all moony over there, all of a sudden?"

Squall turned a page and snapped the newspaper straight. "Zell, calm down and let Quistis explain."

"Argider Cato is a librarian who specializes in the study of blue magic," Quistis said. "He has plenty of formal training in the discipline and works with the Estharian government to research the development and application of new skills."

"He also happens to be a total hunk!" Rinoa added, grinning down at her puzzle.

"One who has been properly vetted," Quistis continued, glaring at Rinoa. "I spoke to Kiros, who verified his credentials, and both Kiros and Argider provided letters to Cid and Xu recommending the sabbatical on my behalf. Besides, his expertise will also benefit Garden: Cid only approved the sabbatical on the grounds that I develop a curriculum for blue magic instruction here. So, in a way, I'll still be working. Just not here."

Zell nodded. "I see now. But still, it'll be really strange not seeing you around. You're about as permanent a fixture here as those freaky fountain fish." He deftly dodged Quistis' swipe and turned to Squall. "By the way, Squall, it sounds like this Argider guy's somethin' else. With Rinoa going to Esthar to visit Doc Odine every few months ..."

"What are you getting at?" Squall asked, his expression indicating he knew perfectly well what.

"Well, man ... aren't you worried?"

Rinoa laughed. "Oh, please. As if I would ever trade this guy for anyone else." She took Squall's hand and gave it a light squeeze. Squall reciprocated, and they exchanged smiles. Quistis heard Zell make a strange sound, like a barely-contained gag, and suppressed her own laugh.

"But I haven't gone blind," Rinoa continued, choosing to ignore Zell's nonverbal commentary. "I can still appreciate beauty when I see it."

Zell shrugged and began eating. "So, Quisty," he said between mouthfuls, "when does your sabbatical start?"

"At the beginning of next month," Quistis answered.

"Wow, that doesn't leave a lot of time to prepare!"

"There isn't much _to_ prepare. Garden has leased an apartment in Esthar for the duration of my stay, and most of the materials I'll need are there, anyway. I just have a few administrative assignments to finish up, and I'm ready."

"Bet you're getting pretty excited, then."

"A little."

"It's got to be more than 'a little,'" Rinoa said, brushing away some eraser dust. "I've been teasing you about Argider, but I know this sabbatical is about _you_ , a chance to find out more about who you are and what you can do. I'd be ecstatic if I had that same chance to learn about being a sorceress. So, come on, how excited are you, really?"

Quistis grinned. "Quite."

Rinoa groaned and shook her head. She folded up her puzzle and tucked the pencil behind her ear, then excused herself to go check on Angelo. Squall soon followed, to attend to his own work. As Quistis rose to return her tray, Zell turned to her again.

"Oh, by the way, I don't think you told me how long you'll be gone," he said.

"Six months," she replied, and walked away, catching a distant "Say what?" as she neared the doors.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Seven boxes. Eleven years of Quistis' life sat in a small stack in the corner of her dorm room. The bulk of the contents consisted of books and notebooks, with a few personal and sentimental items thrown in. Xu eyed the stack critically and nudged the lowest box with her foot.

"Are you sure you'll need all of these?" she asked.

"Probably not," Quistis answered, placing the last of her clothes into a small wheeled suitcase, "but it's hard to tell right now which ones are necessary and which aren't. I'd rather take everything with me, instead of asking you to send it over after I'm settled in Esthar."

"Settled. That sounds so permanent."

"I can't think of a better word. Six months is a long time to just visit."

Xu sighed. "Well, we'd better get these loaded on the airship. Do you know if Tilmitt is ready yet?"

As if awaiting her cue, Selphie bounded into the room. "Tilmitt's always ready," she said. "You two are the slowpokes!" She hefted two boxes and called out to Rinoa, who poked her head through the doorway and waved. Xu looked from Rinoa to Quistis and frowned.

"She's coming?" she asked.

"Of course," said Quistis. "I invited her."

"Not the dog, too, I hope?"

"No, Squall's taking care of Angelo."

"Fine." Xu walked up to Rinoa and held out her hand, palm up, expectantly. "Hand it over."

Rinoa tilted her head to the side. "Hand what over?" she asked innocently, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

"The _bangle_ , Heartilly."

"Oh. That." Rinoa dropped her Odine bangle into Xu's waiting hand. Though this exchange was rooted in the tension that had rippled through Rinoa's first months at Garden, it had become routine and was now largely symbolic. Xu's initial hostility toward Rinoa had long faded, but she still did not trust her completely, particularly when they traveled together. Having the option to rein in the sorceress' powers if the need arose seemed to give Xu — and consequently, everyone around her — a measure of peace.

"Now, grab some boxes and help us load the airship." Xu and Quistis hoisted a pair of boxes each, leaving Rinoa with only one, but also with the added task of maneuvering Quistis' suitcase through the hallways. Corners proved difficult for her, and as she grumbled and tried to free the suitcase's wheels from where they were lodged against the wall, Selphie glanced back and grinned.

"Sorry, Rinnie," she said blithely. "I'd have taken the suitcase myself, but then you'd have _two_ boxes, and I'm not sure you could handle 'em. You're tough, but you're still not as strong as us SeeD women."

Rinoa said nothing, but Quistis felt a cool breeze brush past her ear. A moment later, Selphie yelped and readjusted her grip on the boxes to pull down the hem of her dress, complaining about a draft.

"The bangle, Heartilly," Xu repeated, an undercurrent of amusement in her voice, while Quistis and Rinoa laughed.

When the boxes were secured in the cargo hold and Quistis' suitcase joined the three duffel bags in the cabin's luggage compartments, Selphie slid into the pilot's seat and began flipping switches and checking gauges. The engines roared, and the airship shuddered to life.

"Whoo-hoo," Selphie shouted, "no boys! Just four lovely ladies and an ultra-modern, up-all-night city! Let's party!"

"Might I remind you, Tilmitt, that this is not a pleasure trip," Xu said, adjusting her seatbelt.

"Aw, you're no fun!" Selphie hit a few buttons and pulled a lever, and the airship lifted off. Quistis turned in her seat to watch Balamb Garden drop away from view, followed by the white buildings of Balamb itself. When she could see only the ocean beneath her, she leaned back, wondering whether the sensation in the pit of her stomach was what she'd heard described as homesickness, or just an effect of the airship's ascent.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The apartment was modest, but modern and clean and well-furnished, though it felt a good deal smaller now that three sleeping bags had been unrolled across the living room floor. After squeezing themselves and their cargo into a hired car from the airstation, and alarming the leasing agent with their number and volubility, Quistis and her friends had spent the waning hours of the afternoon unpacking boxes and organizing her new space. Selphie and Rinoa seemed particularly fascinated by the kitchen, and had inquired of the leasing agent where in Esthar one might procure pots and pans and basic cooking utensils. Quistis found out why a short time later, when they both approached her with a binder.

The binder had a yellow gingham cover and a light blue ribbon securing its open end. Blue adhesive letters across the front indicated it was a cookbook. Quistis accepted it and flipped through page after page of recipes, diagrams, and pictures of completed meals.

"We know you probably won't have a lot of time for this kind of stuff," Rinoa said, "but we figured it might be a nice break from the takeout we're pretty sure you'll be surviving on."

"Yeah, and don't worry if you have no idea what you're doing," Selphie said, grabbing a divider tab and flipping to a section near the back. "There's loads and loads of instructions here. Mrs. Dincht helped us out a ton, and so did some of the cafeteria ladies."

"Thank you," Quistis said, smiling and blinking back tears that took her by surprise. What was it about this little gift that touched her so, that filled her heart with both happiness and a strange loneliness? She might never even use it. In fact, she hadn't even considered making her own meals while she was here; Rinoa's assumption about eating takeout for months was dead on. Still, the effort that her friends had put into this – researching recipes and methods and interviewing the cooks they knew, then putting it all together in such a cute presentation – was admirable. That they'd done it specifically for her was overwhelming. She hugged each of them and thanked them again.

"No problem!" Selphie stepped back and watched Quistis wipe her eyes. "But you don't have to cry. Nothing in there's _too_ hard to make. Mrs. Dincht let Rinnie and me try out these recipes, and if _we_ didn't burn her house down, then you have nothing to worry about!"

Quistis laughed. "That's reassuring."

Xu walked over and took the cookbook. She glanced through it, then nodded approvingly at Rinoa and Selphie. "This never would have occurred to me," she said. "I guess I'm far too used to Garden's cafeteria staff handling that." Then, grinning at Quistis, she added, "But this is good. I don't want Quistis coming back to Garden overweight and out of shape from eating too much junk food here."

Quistis shook her head, still smiling. "Speaking of food," she said, "it's pretty close to dinnertime. Why don't we head out and see what we can find?"

They ate dinner at a brightly-lit restaurant with a view of the Presidential Palace, laughing and talking over steaming platters of exotically-spiced foods. Selphie and Rinoa insisted on a detour to the candy shop on the way back. Xu balked at the idea, and when Quistis and the other two emerged from the store with boxes of sweets and bottles of sugary drinks, she was waiting outside, holding a box of grain bars and an oversized jug of water.

Now, dressed in their pajamas, they sat in Quistis' living room, their conversation growing sparse and quiet. Suddenly, Selphie perked up.

"You know," she said, looking around, "this feels like a slumber party. Hey, technically, it _is_!"

"Slumber party?" Xu asked.

"Yeah, like the kind you see in movies. A bunch of girls get together with snacks and sleeping bags for gossip and stuff."

"Aren't the girls in those movies like twelve or thirteen? We're too old for that."

"You're never too old for fun!"

"A slumber party," Quistis said thoughtfully. "I've never been to one. None of us SeeDs have. What about you, Rinoa?"

Rinoa shook her head. "I didn't even have friends my age until I met all of you." She turned to Selphie. "So, assuming this is a slumber party, what do we do?"

Selphie brought her finger to her chin and thought a moment. "Um, I think we're supposed to paint each other's nails and talk about boys."

"Count me out," Xu said, flopping back on the couch with a glass of water.

"Aw, don't be such a party pooper!"

"That implies that there ever was a party to poop," Rinoa said, realizing too late how it sounded. She blushed and waved her hands in front of her face. "Forget I said anything."

"Gladly," said Xu.

"Come on!" Selphie bounded over to her duffel bag and rummaged around, then held up a small bottle of sparkly yellow liquid. "Look, I even brought some nail polish for the occasion. It's called Sunshine Supernova."

"That doesn't even make sense," Rinoa said.

Xu sniffed. "You expect logic from a beauty product?"

Selphie scowled. "Stop being so grumpy! It's just polish. See, it's even got glitter and these sun-shaped confetti thingies."

Rinoa gasped dramatically. "Confetti thingies? Well, that just changes _everything_!"

Xu snorted and sat upright, pounding at her chest and dribbling water down the front of her shirt. Quistis had been watching the exchange with rapt amusement, and now ran to fetch a hand towel for Xu.

"You're not being very nice," Selphie muttered.

"I know, and I apologize." Rinoa relented with a sigh. "Here, let me make it up to you by volunteering as your first victim." She turned toward Selphie and extended her fingers, but drew them back less than a minute later to examine the mess Selphie had already made. "You don't have a very steady hand," she observed.

"Well, if you didn't bite your nails, I wouldn't have such a small target!"

Xu dabbed at her shirt and rolled her eyes. She looked at Quistis. "How do you put up with these two?" she asked.

"By letting them sort things out on their own," Quistis replied. "You have to admit, it's quality entertainment." As she looked at the small group gathered in her apartment, her home for the time being, she felt the same tug in the pit of her stomach as she had in the airship. As different as these young women were, they were all important to her, and she realized just how much she was going to miss them over the next six months. These were her companions and confidantes, her sisters-in-arms, on and off the battlefield. She smiled at them and sighed, her odd sensation giving way to gratitude and pride in being able to count them as her friends.


	3. Chapter 3

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

That familiar dream, again.

Quistis was back in her dorm room at Balamb Garden, but nothing was right. Everything in her room was covered with a thick layer of dust that continued outside and clung to the soles of her shoes. She walked around the first floor of the Garden, looking at the fish fountains, gone still, their faces smeared green with the same algae that choked the fountain pool. The heavy, fetid air gagged her. She wandered into the Training Center, found it overgrown. The parking lot was abandoned, and the library had become like a tomb. She pulled a book off of a shelf and watched it crumble in her hands.

Walking toward the entrance, she stumbled over broken concrete and roots that had pushed their way through the cracks, eager to reclaim the land for themselves. As she neared the front gate, the silence gave way to chatter, to laughter and movement. She looked beyond the gate and saw a world she did not recognize. It was vibrant and bustling, happy and carefree. She saw a few familiar faces. They waved and called to her, but none approached.

She stepped forward to meet them, relieved that she was no longer alone. But as she walked through the gate, the ground undulated beneath her, and two heavy iron shackles erupted from below. They thrashed about on their respective chains like a pair of serpents before latching onto her ankles. Quistis struggled against them, fighting the weight that dragged her down, trying desperately to reach the other side of the gate and the new world everyone had moved on to.

Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks, but she wiped them away and resolved to be strong. Gathering all that was left within herself, she made one final, desperate lunge for the gate.

And opened her eyes with a gasp.

Sitting up and looking around, it took Quistis a few moments to get her bearings. Though the blinds were closed, a few rays of Esthar city light seeped through them, casting strange shadows on her walls. The clock on the nightstand read a little past two. She rubbed her temples and tried to steady her heartbeat.

The same dream, the same chains. The first time she'd broken free of them, she'd tumbled forward into the flower field outside the orphanage. She'd figured it was an effect of Time Compression, one last attempt at retaliation by Ultimecia. The others reported similar experiences on their trip back to the present, waking nightmares tailored to their specific fears.

But her dream continued to haunt her, and with each iteration, the chains became shorter and stronger. She worried that someday, she would have no more chains to fight against, and instead remain shackled to Balamb Garden, becoming as stagnant as the fountain, a relic of a time and a place she could never manage to shake.

Her throat was dry. She got up and headed toward the kitchen, careful to step quietly around her guests. They had insisted she sleep in the bed that night, and Xu had immediately claimed the couch for herself. Quistis listened to their soft, rhythmic breathing, but noticed one sleeping bag was unoccupied. Light flooded in from the balcony. Following it, she saw Selphie silhouetted against it, looking over the railing at the city below.

Quistis joined her. "Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Nope!" Selphie held the railing and bounced up and down. "Look at that city down there! I bet they throw amazing parties. How can anyone _want_ to sleep?"

"You might not want to, but as the pilot, you should. You need to be rested. If you crash the airship, I'm pretty sure Xu will hunt you down in the afterlife."

Selphie laughed. "Okay, I understand. Just a little bit longer, though."

Quistis nodded and looked out over the city herself. Even at two in the morning, there was still significant activity: people coming and going from restaurants and bars, talking and laughing as they walked along the skyways below. The control tower at the airstation was alight, its beam alternating blue and white, signaling to airships that probably weren't even in flight right now. The air was dry and still quite warm, and carried the mingled scents of sand and spices. Quistis turned to Selphie, and was startled by the expression on her friend's face.

Selphie had not moved, but the grin was gone from her lips and she seemed to be looking past the city's skyline at something that concerned her. "Um, Quistis," she began, "you know I'm really happy for you. This is an exciting new chapter in your life. But watching you take this step, I can't help thinking about my own new chapter." She paused and pushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes, the glitter in her nail polish reflecting the lights. "All my life, my goals have been driven by Garden. Become a SeeD, work for Garden, throw great parties in between. But now, I'm wondering about life outside of Garden."

She leaned over the balcony and tilted her face toward the sky. "There's a whole big, crazy world out there, and it doesn't make sense that there wouldn't be a place in it for me. There has to be, right? I love Garden, and I'm not going to abandon it, but I can't see spending the rest of my life there. I can't see myself turning into a female Cid. I don't look good in sweater vests!"

Quistis laughed. "Don't worry, I don't think that will happen." She became serious. "But you're right, the world is a big place, and it's different now than it was just three years ago. I think ... I think a lot of people are sorting themselves out right now, trying to find where they fit in. I'm sure you'll find your place, eventually."

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't rush it. But it might be worth a little peek around, to get an idea of the options out there." Selphie sighed. "Is this what they mean ... is this ... _growing up_?"

"You know, I think it is."

"It's kinda scary. But as long as I don't end up in a sweater vest, I think I'll be A-OK!" Selphie stretched and yawned. She gave one last glance at the sparkling city, then went inside, stepping over Rinoa to reach her sleeping bag. "Goodnight, Quisty," she whispered, then burrowed into the quilted material and closed her eyes.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"Are you _sure_ we can't just pop by the palace and say hi to Sir Laguna?" Selphie asked. She was her usual self again; any trace of the serious woman on the balcony had faded with the morning light.

"We don't have time, Tilmitt," Xu answered. "Besides, you bug him too much."

"Nuh-uh! I have a standing invitation to the Presidential Palace. 'Drop by whenever.' Those were Sir Laguna's words. His own words!"

"Then drop by on your own time. I have work to get back to."

"Rinnie!" Selphie appealed to Rinoa, who looked up from her half-eaten box of candy, her mouth full.

"What?" she mumbled around the candy.

"Never mind." Realizing she had no support for her proposed itinerary change, Selphie drooped. "Come on, let's get back to Garden."

She and Rinoa shouldered their duffel bags and hugged Quistis goodbye. Xu flung her duffel bag at Selphie and instructed her to wait downstairs. When Selphie and Rinoa's conversation died away down the hall, Xu turned to Quistis.

"Well," she said, "this is really it. Six months away from Garden. Away from the craziness, the drama, the missions. Enjoy." She leaned forward quickly and hugged Quistis. Quistis staggered backwards, unprepared for this display of affection, but regained her balance and returned the hug.

"It's only six months," she said. "I'll be back before you know it. And it's not like we won't be communicating in the meantime, anyway."

Xu broke the embrace and held Quistis at arms' length. "Take care of yourself. If anything happens – if that Cato guy turns out to be some kind of pervert – you let me know right away, and I swear –"

Quistis laughed. "Don't worry so much. I _am_ a SeeD, remember? I can take care of myself. But, if I do need anything, you'll be the first person I call."

Xu nodded, then walked toward the door. She turned around in the doorway and saluted. "In that case, meet you back at Garden, Trepe."

Quistis returned the salute. She watched Xu disappear down the hall, heard her shout at Selphie for not having called the elevator yet. She closed the door and leaned against it. The stillness of the apartment was almost suffocating. She shook off the melancholy of goodbye and set about getting ready. Her sabbatical began today, and in a few short hours, she'd be at the library. There was no time for sadness, no time for doubt.

There was only time to begin.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The cool air of the library was a relief from the morning heat. Quistis fanned herself as she stepped through the second set of doors.

"Good morning!" A husky female voice greeted her. Quistis looked at the woman behind the front desk and blinked. Beyond her polite smile, this woman had the bearing of a storybook queen. She sat straight in her chair, her hair pulled back from her face and tumbling over her shoulders in dark curls, radiating calm confidence. "How can I help you?" she asked.

Quistis suddenly felt very small, very young in the presence of this woman. "My name is Quistis Trepe," she began. "I'm here on a sabbatical from my work to conduct research under Argider Cato's guidance."

"Wouldn't you know it," the woman said, her smile widening, "as soon as he went back to his desk." She called for Argider, then leaned toward Quistis. "He's been pacing like a caged Torama all morning. I told him to be patient, that you'd arrive on time, but it didn't help. I've never seen him this excited." She looked Quistis up and down. "And now I know why."

Quistis blushed, unsure how to respond. She heard hurried footsteps, and soon Argider appeared from behind the bookshelves. He grinned and waved at her and as he got closer, she noticed he looked a bit more put-together than when she first saw him. His shirt and slacks were neatly pressed and creased, and he was clean-shaven. He and Quistis exchanged greetings.

"See?" said the front-desk woman. "I told you she'd make it."

"Thank you, Retta," Argider said, then turned to Quistis. "How was your trip? The directions weren't too bad, were they?"

"No, they were perfectly understandable," Quistis replied.

"Great. Now, since you'll be spending a lot of time here, I think we should get started with a tour of the library, and an introduction." He gestured toward the woman at the front desk. "This is Retta Almante. She's the librarian for our history and folklore collections, as well as the primary contact for vendors and donors."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," said Retta. "I might not be knowledgeable in your chosen field, but if you need help finding anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you."

"Have fun, you two," Retta called after them when Argider excused himself and Quistis from her company. "But not _too_ much fun!"

Argider winced. "You'll have to excuse Retta. She has a tendency to build up situations in her mind until they hardly resemble reality. But she's a dedicated worker and a great friend, and one of the most intelligent people I've known."

"She seems nice," Quistis replied, glancing back at Retta. "Quite lively, too." She followed Argider through the library, past the bookcases and into the blue magic section. He pointed out the shelves behind his desk, detailing the skill-bearing items within. Then, he approached a door on the far wall, punched an access code into the keypad above the handle, and opened it to reveal a flight of stairs.

"We'll set you up with your own code," he said, "so you can access the second floor. Up here, we have our storage rooms, our archives, and our laboratory."

The storage rooms looked like any other, full of shelves crammed with books and boxes and office supplies. The archive room, however, was sealed tight against moisture and light, accessible through a series of two heavy metal doors. Argider flicked on the light and Quistis marveled at the extent of the collection. Floor-to-ceiling shelves ran the width of the room, set on rails to eliminate the need for a space in between all but two shelves. They were lined with file boxes bulging at the seams, with containers carrying such intriguing labels as "Behemoth Horns" and "O. Lab Rejections". Of course, there were binders and books of different sizes, and an entire shelf dedicated to old periodicals.

"A lot of the items in here were hidden away during Adel's reign," Argider explained. "They were scattered all over the city, and as a consequence, some collections are incomplete. In addition to written material, we also have a few artifacts from some of the museums that closed during that time and never reopened. It's like a giant time capsule."

"Oh my goodness, this is amazing!" Quistis said. Time capsule, indeed. She walked along the ends of the shelves, reading the plaques that signified what they held. She became acutely aware of just how small her world was. Here were stories and artifacts and research articles about places and periods she knew nothing about. While she was growing up and being forced into molds she did not fit, life continued around her, full of discovery and innovation, fear and desperation, resilience and hope.

"See anything you'd like to take a closer look at?" Argider asked.

"Everything," Quistis mumbled to herself, but decided on the shelf labeled "Para-Magic."

"All right, stand back." Argider pressed a button on the wall, and the shelves began to move, sliding over one by one until a narrow aisle opened to give access to the materials on the shelf Quistis specified. She walked into the aisle and looked up. File boxes scrawled with dates almost forty years old lined the top shelf, and continued to a stack of periodicals from five years ago.

"It's all there," Argider said. "All of Odine's research, his strange experiments, all the way down to the use of para-magic in skills augmentation through Guardian Force junctioning."

"I'm quite familiar with that aspect," Quistis said, thumbing through a magazine. The articles were of the sort typical of a scientific journal, and covered elements of magic she hadn't even considered. "I just wasn't aware that para-magic was still such fertile ground for research."

"Well, you know us academic types. We'll pick at an issue until there's nothing left, and then start analyzing the nothing." He shrugged and grinned. "It's practically an addiction."

Quistis replaced the magazine. "I'm sorry, but I believe I may have missed the shelf pertaining to blue magic. I assume you have at least some archives that can't be loaned out, correct?"

"Not as extensive as those on para-magic, but yes." He and Quistis walked out and he slid the shelves over to the blue magic section. "Depending on how deep you want to delve into the subject, this is a good collection pertaining to the history of blue magic and early research methodology. However, I should warn you that these documents are incredibly dull, and many authors cover this information in their introductory chapters, anyway. But if you feel you need to read the original research, or to quote a source directly, you'll find it here."

After a bit more browsing, Quistis and Argider left the archives for the laboratory. The laboratory was a clean and open space, with several metal tables standing across the white tile floor. A variety of impressive-looking instruments sat upon the tables and the counters running along the back wall, and a door with a decal that read "Testing Chamber" opened to a side room.

"Here's where a lot of my practical research takes place," Argider said. "I experiment with distilling skill-bearing items into pills and potions. Sometimes the manner in which to distill them requires a bit of work, sometimes it's about finding the right amount of the item to encapsulate." He pointed to the side room. "'Testing chamber' sounds ominous, but I assure you, it's quite mundane. After taking one of the distilled items, a blue mage is required to test out their new skill under my supervision. A program recreates battle conditions, while sensors on the subject's body allow me to monitor his or her reaction to the item. This ensures that both of us are satisfied with the item's effectiveness.

"Of course, there are several important steps between the two processes I just mentioned. Replication and verification of results, and manufacturing and distribution of the pill or potion. Those steps are outsourced to another laboratory with resources better suited to them." He stopped, then smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen to me, rambling on. I'm sorry. You may not even need to use this space, but I just wanted to give you a complete overview of what I do here."

"There's no need to apologize," Quistis said. "This is all very interesting. I really have so little understanding of the hows and whys of blue magic. At Garden, the process is simply to absorb the skill, then use it to achieve our immediate goal." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's actually nice to know this research exists. Kind of comforting, even. For years, I've felt like … well, like a freak, but one who was tolerated because her strangeness was useful. Having all this research gives context to my skill, gives me a history that I can be part of. It anchors me in the wider world."

Argider said nothing, but stared at her intently, his lips slightly parted. Quistis felt her face grow warm and looked quickly away.

"I guess it's my turn to apologize. That was pretty saccharine."

"No," he said slowly, "it was beautiful. I get caught up in my research sometimes, chasing facts and figures to the point that I forget how this even relates to people. Knowing there's someone like you out there, someone who appreciates the human implications of this research, puts a different spin on it. I'll have to remember that."

Quistis smiled, but couldn't bring herself to look at him. For a while, neither of them spoke, letting the silence grow between them, around them, warm and comfortable rather than awkward. Finally, Argider chuckled.

"If this morning is any indication," he said, "I think your sabbatical might be good for both of us." He nodded toward the exit. "Now, let's get back before Retta gets any other crazy ideas in her head."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

 _The identities of the first blue mages are lost to history, but records of item usage in the development and augmentation of skills replicating magic date back quite far, and the practice may have its roots in the legends of Hyne. The search for Hyne's other half led people to hunt down creatures of great power and consume parts of them in the hope of harnessing that power. When some individuals gained strange skills from such a practice, the concept gained traction. Of course, this practice proved fatal for many more people than it helped._

 _Those it did help, however, found themselves in a strange position. Thought to have reclaimed a fraction of Hyne's power, they were equally respected and feared; but when it became apparent that they had developed powers absent the "instabilities" associated with sorceresses, blue mages became revered. Before the development of para-magic, blue mages were highly sought as healers, guardians, and warriors._

\- P. Mataraci and N. Vardan, _History of Blue Mages_

Quistis jotted down notes from the text, circling and numbering passages to correspond with the outline of her proposed curriculum. She sat at the table closest to the blue magic section, hardly aware of the patrons browsing around her, listening to the soft sound of computer keystrokes as both Retta and Argider worked on their respective projects.

She was surprised to see a mention of Hyne in the textbook, but understood how well it tied into the methods by which blue magic skills were learned. She copied the passage and noted in the margins of her outline to pursue this connection further, after she'd finished developing this curriculum, to see if another course could be built around it.

She was so absorbed in her work that she jumped when Retta said her name.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Retta said. "I just came to say good night, and reiterate what a pleasure it was meeting you."

Quistis removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Thank you. It was very nice meeting you, too." She looked outside and noticed that the sun had set below the buildings, but the sky above was still a pale blue. "Is the library closing?"

"No, but my shift's over. Argider will be taking over the front desk duties for the last few hours. Don't feel obligated to stay until closing, though. You need to eat sometime." Retta winked and waved, calling to Argider on her way out. Quistis stood and stretched, catching Argider's eye as he came to the front of the library.

"So, how was your first day?" he asked, walking over and glancing at the scattered notes and open books on her table.

"Productive," Quistis answered. "I think I should have my proposed curriculum completed well before the end of my sabbatical. Then I can focus on my own research, and see how many more course ideas I can generate from that."

"Ambitious. But how about taking a break? You didn't even have lunch, did you?"

"I was planning to, but I guess I got carried away with my work."

"There are a few restaurants just down the street that should be opening for dinner about now. That is," he added quickly, "if you're planning on staying longer. Otherwise, feel free to head home whenever you're finished for the day."

"I think I'll stay a little bit longer, and pick up something to eat on the way to my apartment. A break does sound good, though." She followed him toward the front desk, rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders. "I didn't realize your work day was so long."

"It isn't. I usually come into work a few hours after Retta. But today, I wanted to be here in case you showed up earlier than expected."

"I didn't want you to do anything like that. I have no problem adjusting my schedule. What hours does your shift run?"

"11:00 to 20:00. Does that work for you?"

Quistis nodded. "Of course. I always wondered what it felt like to sleep in late."

"It's one of life's little luxuries," Argider said with a grin.

A patron approached the desk with an armful of books, and as Argider processed the items, Quistis turned and watched the activity on the street outside. Had it really only been four weeks since she'd done this last, her skin still aflame from the sun's brutal assault, on the verge of discovering just how important this library would become to her? Somehow, it seemed half a lifetime ago.

"So," Argider said when the patron had exited the building, "tell me a bit more about this sabbatical of yours. I understand your goals, but what made you decide to pursue them?"

"In all honesty, it's an excuse to immerse myself in the materials you have here," Quistis said. "I was prepared to ask only for the standard leave, but Kiros suggested a sabbatical with a relatively simple project as the end goal. He was right; Garden is so desperate for information about specialty skills, the headmaster approved my request without even questioning my project proposal."

"Kiros can be unexpectedly devious. I admit, though, I was surprised when he approached me with the idea, and even more surprised to hear from you directly. Aside from tutoring undergraduates when I was at university, and helping train new blue mages in the army, I don't have much teaching experience." He reorganized items on the desk. "I have trouble anticipating others' questions and needs, so the best way for us to work together is probably for you to ask me things directly. What you'd like to find out, which materials would be the best resources, and so on. Otherwise, I'm going to assume you know what you're doing."

"I understand." She smiled at him. "And I appreciate your confidence in me."

He returned the smile. "It's not unfounded."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

 _In the modern era, advancements in medicine and weaponry reduced civilians' reliance on blue mages, rendering their services unnecessary outside of organized conflict. The development of para-magic further marginalized blue mages, as skilled para-magic users were far more common and easily trained, making blue mages' skills redundant._

 _Military organizations, however, still retain and aggressively recruit blue mages for their repertoires of powerful skills that require no additional items to use. The almost entirely self-contained nature of blue magic places very little strain on a force's available resources, and thus presents a significant advantage on the battlefield._

\- P. Mataraci and N. Vardan, _History of Blue Mages_

Quistis looked up from the text and frowned at the sunlight slipping through the blinds pulled across her balcony door. She hadn't slept well the night before, waking often from restless dreams punctuated by a sense of isolation and an indefinable longing, and now daybreak had found her. She sighed and rose from her little kitchen table that overflowed with books and notebooks competing for space with her laptop, moved the blinds aside, and stepped out onto the balcony. The morning air was cool, signifying summer's loosening grip on the city, though the sun seemed to work twice as hard during the afternoon to reclaim it. Below her, the peculiar contrast of a weekend morning played out, with shopkeepers and restaurant owners arriving at their businesses while the last of the late-night revelers staggered home.

It had been almost a month since she'd arrived, and already, this place felt familiar. Familiar, but a bit sterile. More and more, she found she preferred the vibrancy of the neighborhood surrounding the library: its colors, its sounds, the aromas drifting from restaurants, the bustle of people, the serenity of the afternoon rest. The activity outside made the library feel like a haven, and, in the soft hours of early evening, when the signs of businesses flickered to life and music poured from speakers in cafes and bars, it felt almost like a home.

In the hour before closing, when most patrons were lured away by the lights and the crowds, Argider would sit with her, and they'd go over whatever she'd completed that day, addressing any issues she had with it. It had become routine, but she was surprised the first evening he sat down across from her and asked to see her work.

"It's not very coherent," she said, sliding her notes over to him, "but here is the outline I'm working from."

He looked over the papers and nodded. "It looks like it's coming together well. May I make some suggestions?"

Quistis nodded but inwardly cringed. "Suggestions" were rarely positive, and in her experience, could eviscerate an entire argument.

Argider pointed to a section of the outline. "Your outline for your introductory module is clear and comprehensive," he said, "and for a student with your experience and access to research material, I'd say it's wonderful. However, it might be a little overwhelming for a new student to absorb all at once. Have you considered presenting a generalized overview, then delving into specifics at the beginning of each module afterward?"

"I had, but I'm concerned that if the introductory module can't generate enough interest, many students will have abandoned the course — mentally or physically — before the other concepts are properly introduced."

"That's a valid concern. But think back on courses that interested you. I'm sure they had dull sections, but something must have kept you engaged throughout."

Quistis tapped her pen against the table. "Well, I always enjoyed courses that provided supplemental material. Just small side articles that gave the main lesson additional context."

"Something to anchor it in the wider world."

Quistis looked up quickly, surprised to hear him reference her earlier statement. Argider simply smiled at her.

"I think you already know what the heart of your course is," he said. "Don't be afraid to build around that."

"You don't think it's selfish? It's _my_ reason for wanting to learn more about blue magic, but I can't speak for any prospective students."

"But don't you think you'll do a better job on something you're passionate about, rather than forcing yourself to create what you _think_ other people want?" He shrugged. "You can't please everyone. But if you're pleased with your work, that'll come through, and you might turn a few more people to your point of view than you otherwise would."

He handed the papers back to her and looked her in the eyes. "Listen," he continued, "it's impossible for me to know what it's like to grow up in Garden, but I spent a couple years in the army, so I do understand regimentation and the drive to conform. For some people, that's an ideal environment; for others, it can be hell. I also understand that no matter how hard these organizations try, it's incredibly difficult to completely extinguish the individual inside. But, after so long, it might be just as hard to get that person back. That doesn't mean it's not worth a shot."

"I am apprehensive," Quistis admitted. "If Garden rejects this curriculum, my sabbatical — and their funds — will have gone to waste."

"It's not a waste if you get something out of it. Besides, didn't you tell me that Garden is desperate for new material? This curriculum will be a net gain for them. I highly doubt they'll reject it out of hand. No matter what you produce, you're filling a need." He leaned back and grinned. "Consider this _carte blanche_ to do whatever you want."

Quistis bit her lip but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. "You know, when you put it that way, it sounds incredibly exciting." She hiked an eyebrow. "Maybe even a little dangerous."

"Oh, yeah. Us two bookworms, livin' on the edge."

Armed with a new perspective, Quistis began to take joy in her work, rather than worry whether she was doing it right. Argider pulled together references for her, and even asked Retta to gather some materials pertaining to world history and folklore. Quistis found herself looking forward to their evening review sessions, which often as not strayed from work into pleasant conversation. The shackles of Garden were loosening around her heart, and she was becoming acutely aware of the space they created.

Taking a deep breath of morning air, Quistis decided she couldn't spend the day cooped up in her apartment. There was life out there. The stately order of the skyways or the colorful commotion around the library, it mattered little to her. She showered, dressed, and headed out into the city.

Out of habit, she boarded the lift headed to the Industrial District. Embarrassed that routine still seemed to guide her movements, she nevertheless decided to make the best of the situation. Several storefronts near the library had caught her eye, but she'd never made time to visit, and there were still a few restaurants she hadn't tried.

She was browsing a display of colorful clay figurines set up outside one of the shops when two little boys holding toy airships rushed past, approximating mechanical sounds with their mouths. Quistis jumped out of their way, catching herself before she stumbled off the curb. She heard a woman call the boys back, and then the same woman called her name. Quistis turned around.

"Retta!" she said. The librarian stood on the sidewalk, flanked by the little boys, wearing an Estharian robe but foregoing the headdress. Considering how much trouble Rinoa had had putting one on, Quistis suspected that Retta simply couldn't fit all of her hair into one. Behind Retta, a man completed his transaction with a shopkeeper, then handed her a bag. She thanked him, then gestured toward Quistis.

"Haren, this is Quistis, the young woman I mentioned who is studying with Argider," she said. "Quistis, this is Haren, my husband."

"Very nice to meet you, Quistis," Haren said with a short bow.

"Likewise." Quistis replied. Retta introduced the two boys as her sons, who suddenly became very shy and tried to hide behind her. She pulled both of them in front of her and instructed them to shake Quistis' hand. As they did, their shyness melted away into wide smiles.

"So," Retta continued, "what brings you out here on a weekend? I thought you were staying in the city center."

"I am, but I decided to take a little break from my work and look around the area. I've never had a chance to visit many of these businesses."

"I'm glad you're finally learning the value of downtime." She glanced back at her husband, and the two of them seemed to silently agree on something. "We were just about to get something to eat. Now, I know you seem to subsist on air, but why not change that, too, and join us?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose …"

"It's not an imposition, it's an invitation. Come on."

Quistis sat at a large round table inside a crowded restaurant, between Retta and her older son. As Retta heaped portions of foods on her plate from the platters and bowls that were brought to the table, Quistis learned that Haren worked as an accountant for a firm in the Financial District, and that both boys were preparing to return to school. The younger boy looked at his toy sitting next to his plate and asked Quistis if she liked airships, and both boys stared at her wide-eyed when she said some of her friends were pilots.

"Awesome!" the older boy said. "But have _you_ ever flown an airship?"

"Once or twice," Quistis said, "but I was never very good at it. Lucky for me, that airship had an auto-pilot feature."

Haren looked at her thoughtfully. "My wife tells me you're a SeeD," he said at last. "SeeD had possession of the Ragnarok for a while — beautiful ship, my friend's father worked on it back in the day — and I wonder, did you ever get the chance to admire it?"

Quistis dipped her head and grinned. "Actually, that was the airship I flew ... well, set to auto-pilot."

"Oh my goodness," Retta exclaimed, "I had no idea you were one of _those_ SeeDs! Please, allow me to thank you for your service. I can't say I understand exactly what you kids did, but I understand the outcome very well." She turned to her sons. "Straighten up and show some respect! You're sitting next to a hero."

As the two boys gaped at her, Quistis tried to play down Retta's praise. "I'm no hero ... My friends and I just did what was necessary."

"Don't be so modest. You have to learn to own your accomplishments. I thought you'd have picked that up by working with Argider." Retta paused. "Speaking of Argider, I wonder if he knows who you really are."

"He might, considering he knows officials from the Presidential Palace. He's never mentioned it, though, and it would be awkward to bring it up." Quistis ate a forkful of the meat on her plate, savoring the warmth and spiciness of the sauce it was served in, and washed it down with a sip of cold tea.

"Besides," she continued, "I'm quite comfortable with the way we're working together now. I don't want him to think of me as anything more than another researcher."

Retta shook her head. "Oh, Quistis. It's too late for that."

Quistis stared at Retta, her mouth hanging open. Retta just beamed and picked up another bowl, spooning more food onto Quistis' plate. "Here, you have to try this," she said. "It's one of this restaurant's specialties!"


	4. Chapter 4

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece_ _does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its_ _characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

Quistis idly thumbed through the book in front of her. She'd spent the past twenty minutes reading and rereading the same paragraph, unable to concentrate as Retta's mysterious words swirled in her head. Rationally, she knew it was most likely a case of Retta teasing her, trying to elicit a reaction. But she couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting to other possibilities, both terrifying and thrilling, and she hated herself for it. She was here to work, not to entertain frivolous fantasies at the cost of productivity.

 _Still_ ...

A sharp _ding_ from her laptop jolted her out of her reverie. She looked at the screen and clicked on the notification that had popped up, and soon Xu appeared, slightly distorted, in the small window of the communications application.

"Hi, Quistis," Xu said, then leaned forward and squinted at her own screen. "I know these video communications aren't the best quality, but you look really tired. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Quistis replied, "but I didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh?"

"The usual. Worries, odd dreams. It was easier to stay up and work."

"Speaking of work, Cid is really pleased with your progress reports so far. I take it everything's going well over there? Well, except for your sleep, but that's nothing new."

Quistis brightened. "Yes. My research has been productive and very enlightening. I've just completed an overview of the history of blue magic and discovered some surprising ties to folklore, and I'm moving on to methods of introduction of skill-bearing items and the absorption of skills. Argider's pulling some references for me over the weekend."

"And Argider … is he treating you well?" Xu arched an eyebrow. "No funny business?"

Quistis scowled. She'd thought Xu had abandoned those concerns. "He's a knowledgeable professional who has helped me immensely in the short time I've been here," she said, bile burning the back of her throat. "Certainly more than Garden ever has. And no, there's no 'funny business' going on. Give my apologies to the resident gossipmongers, but it's strictly work between us."

Xu leaned back, her eyes wide, and held her hands in front of her. "Whoa, I wasn't being serious. What's the matter with you?"

"I'm tired of you assuming there's some sort of romantic subtext to Argider and me working together. You've really given far too much credence to what Rinoa said. She was only teasing me."

"Heartilly's not the one that goes on about him. It's Tilmitt. Apparently, Heartilly showed her a picture of Argider, and now not a day goes by that his name doesn't cross her lips."

Quistis relaxed, her limbs still tingling from the rush of adrenaline that had accompanied her outburst, and tried to smile. "At least he's a more age-appropriate crush than Laguna," she said.

"Oh, she hasn't given that one up, either." Xu sighed. "I'm sorry I bother you about Argider. But you have to admit, it's weird that someone the rest of us have never met has become something of a celebrity here at Garden. I guess I worry that he's too good to be true. There must be _something_ wrong with him."

"Well, he's not particularly suave, if that counts for anything. He's actually quite … bookish."

"A nerd."

"If you want to put it bluntly." Silence. Quistis rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Xu, but I think my tiredness is catching up with me. I hope you don't mind if I cut our conversation short."

"Not at all. Take care of yourself, and don't hesitate to call, even just to talk." Xu grinned. "Sweet dreams."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

 _Ingestion of a skill-bearing item remains the only known method by which to absorb a blue magic skill. Items may be ingested in one of three ways:_ _ **raw**_ _,_ _ **processed**_ _, or_ _ **distilled**_ _._ _ **Raw ingestion**_ _is exactly what it sounds like – the ingestion of an item in the same state in which it was obtained._ _ **Processed ingestion**_ _entails altering the item in a way to facilitate ingestion. For example, a blue mage might choose to crush an inferno fang into powder to more easily ingest it and absorb the Fire Breath skill. Finally, the_ _ **distilled ingestion**_ _method replaces ingesting the item itself with the ingestion of a pill or potion into which the item has been distilled. These distillations must be prepared by trained individuals, and though the effects are not always immediate and not always successful, this is the method of choice for organizations that employ multiple blue mages, due to its rapidity and the availability of a variety of items._

\- G. Merrin, _Blue Magic Skills: A Practical Guide and Analysis_

Quistis scribbled a few notes and yawned.

"Yeah, the 'Methods of Introduction' section is incredibly tedious," Argider said, looking up from his computer screen.

"Oh, it's not the material," Quistis said. "I just haven't slept well lately."

Argider grinned. "You don't have to make excuses. It's boring. But it also lays the foundation for many theories and further studies. This might be the biggest challenge you'll face in creating your curriculum, in the sense of maintaining student interest. Have you decided how you're going to present it?"

"I'd really like to continue providing supplemental material to round out the lesson." Quistis thought for a moment. "For the first section of the course, I was able to expand on the historical and cultural context of blue magic, but this section is strictly scientific. It would be nice to illustrate the concepts with some objective data: experiments and case studies, perhaps even an explanation of the distillation process."

"Great ideas! We have plenty of the first two kinds of materials in the archives. As for the last one, I wouldn't mind giving you a demonstration. Firsthand observation of the process might make it easier to explain it in your own words, rather than parroting some of the jargon-filled chapters in these books." As Argider was rising from his chair, the phone on his desk rang, a distinctive pattern that made him groan and sit back down.

"I have to get this," he said. "It's the lab, and they are _not_ patient. If they can't reach me here, they'll contact my superiors at the government agency, and then _they'll_ be bugging me." He lifted the receiver. "Yes. … Yes, I finished it last week. … No, I couldn't find an explanation for the outlying results …"

While he spoke on the phone, Quistis leaned back in her chair and stretched. When she'd begun researching the current section of the curriculum, Argider had suggested she move to the back of the library to work, closer to the materials she would need and within speaking distance of him should she have questions. With Retta's words from several days before still echoing in her mind, Quistis agreed apprehensively at first, but she soon relaxed as Argider went about his own work, stopping only infrequently to ask how she was doing.

She decided that Retta's comment had been a gentle joke; at worst, it was simply an indication of what Argider had warned Quistis about on the first day of her sabbatical – Retta's imagination running wild. Argider himself had never made her feel anything but comfortable. Patient and a little awkward, he was also respectful and lighthearted and easy to talk to. Quistis resolved to be more careful about allowing others to influence her opinions.

"I have the sample and my final report," Argider continued, "but I can't make the trip there today. Could you send someone to pick them up? … Great, I'll be expecting him, then. Thank you." He hung up and turned toward Quistis. "Sorry for the interruption. Go on and head up to the archives. I'm just going to give Retta a message, and then I'll join you."

Two boxes crammed with file folders took up much of the space on the table in the archives room. Quistis perused lab reports, reading abstract after abstract and examining the data. Argider thumbed through the folders, searching for results of experiments conducted before the widespread use of distilled items. Those he found, he set aside, and eventually, he slid a small stack of folders across the table to Quistis.

"These reports detail the most recent experiments in methods other than distillation that I could find," he said. "Unfortunately, most of them are pretty old. It seems that once distillation methods were fully developed, many researchers abandoned the other methods entirely. It's kind of a shame, really."

"Thanks. These will do just fine for a simple overview of the methods of introduction," Quistis said, setting aside her own pile of folders and flipping through the ones he'd given her. Halfway through a folder, she stopped shuffling papers and frowned, bringing a hand to her chin.

"What's wrong?"

"In the chapter I read today, the author mentioned that even the ingestion of distilled items does not completely guarantee absorption of the corresponding skill. I was wondering if there was a document anywhere that might list the comparative efficacy of all methods of introduction across all known skills."

"Now _that's_ going to require a search. I don't know of any offhand. Researchers have been working with the question of item effectiveness for decades, but most studies I've read have focused on the skill-bearing item itself, and not compared the methods of introduction, at least not in great detail." He wrote something on a scrap of paper. "Tell you what, let's finish gathering materials and data for the section of the curriculum you're currently working on, and then we can go straight into some of the more popular theories about blue magic applications. You might find something close to the document you're seeking, and in the meantime, I'll continue to look for an exact fit."

Quistis made a note to the same effect in the margins of her notebook. "That sounds good. One step at a time, right?"

As she read through another report, Quistis heard the outer door to the archives opening. Soon afterward, someone rapped on the second door. Retta opened it and poked her head through.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said with a grin, then turned toward Argider. "The representative from O. Labs is here to pick up the sample and your report."

"Right." Argider excused himself, followed by Retta. _O. Labs_. Quistis pretended to be absorbed in the document before her, but now new questions sprung to mind. Wasn't that how Dr. Odine referred to his laboratory? Was that the laboratory Argider had mentioned outsourcing work to, and if so, how could she have not known Odine also focused on blue magic? It was just as well, since, judging by how Rinoa returned from her first few appointments, exhausted to the point that Squall needed to carry her at times, Odine did not seem to be kind toward his subjects. How exactly did he implement Argider's research and experiments, and – more importantly – how could Argider be so casual about working with a man of such compromised ethics? Unless he was one himself …

Quistis felt sick to her stomach and wondered whether Xu's concerns had been legitimate after all. Perhaps she didn't understand Argider as well as she thought. Perhaps, in her selfish desire to learn more about her own skills, she had stumbled headlong into the kind of situation she'd normally steer well clear of.

She jumped at the sound of the door opening, and as Argider took his seat across from her, she leaned away from the table. He seemed not to notice her wariness, apologizing again for the interruption and resuming his search through the folders.

"O. Labs," Quistis ventured, "that's Odine's laboratory, right?"

He looked up. "Not exactly," he said, then smiled when she creased her brow and frowned at him. "The situation's a bit confusing, but I'll try my best to explain. The lab you're thinking of is Dr. Odine's laboratory, a singular noun. That is his personal lab, where he runs all of his experiments on para-magic and junctioning and whatnot. Odine _Laboratories_ , in the plural, is a separate company that has the misfortune of bearing his name simply because he was the primary benefactor of its establishment."

Argider's manner while explaining the difference between the labs was so natural and guileless that Quistis felt she could believe him. She began to relax, but her frown remained. "The implied association is still uncomfortable," she said. "I've seen the effects of Odine's tests on his subjects, and it's clear that the man is far from compassionate."

"I understand where you're coming from, but the situation is what it is." He watched her, and for a few awkward moments, she avoided his gaze. "You know," he said finally, "I didn't think SeeDs painted in such broad strokes."

Quistis' head snapped up. "What?"

Argider shrugged. "You all are mercenaries. Your world is colored in shades of gray. I thought someone like you, of all people, would understand the concept of affiliation by necessity."

"I understand it on a rational level, but mine is a visceral reaction. It's hard for me to separate Odine's name from what I know about how he works, the pain he causes others in pursuit of his own goals, his own glory."

Argider sat back and let out a long breath. "In all honesty, I don't like the man, either. He's a pompous bastard who has no regard for practical science, or human dignity, for that matter. But at the end of the war, with Adel defeated and the new government adopting isolationist policies, research and engineering became extremely important. Esthar needed a place to gather its brightest minds, and the money to retain them and fund their projects. Because of how close he was to Adel and how well she compensated him for his experiments, Odine had the most individual capital to contribute to the development of the proposed laboratory. His sole condition was that the new company bear his name.

"How do you think Estharians survived seventeen years in isolation, especially in this terrain? We relied on massive greenhouses, water delivery and purification systems, genetically modified livestock, practical and magical medical care – all of which were developed and implemented by the employees of Odine Laboratories. Associating these projects and future research, however tangentially, with an ethically-challenged egomaniac was – and remains – a small price to pay for survival and innovation."

Quistis sat silently, staring at her hands on the table, her cheeks burning. She had always prided herself on being able to think critically, to separate her emotions from the facts available to her. But in this case, all she'd had was emotions, until Argider provided the facts and the context. She was ashamed of her ignorance, ashamed of leaping headfirst into an argument she had no ammunition to fight, let alone win. Argider's lecture annoyed her, but she was far more angry with herself for having provoked it with her admittedly childlike perspective on the matter.

"Quistis." Argider's tone had softened considerably. "I'm sorry if that sounded harsh. I guess I felt defensive, particularly because of my association with O. Labs. Like you, I can understand your position on Odine and anything affiliated with him, but I can't help but feel differently." He paused until she looked up at him. "I know it's a matter of conscience for you, and while you're here, I promise I won't ask you to deal with the laboratory directly. But please understand that any major research project in Esthar will inevitably tie back to them, so consider that when deciding how far you want to pursue your own work."

As he spoke, he reached across the table, and Quistis thought he intended to take hold of her hand. His fingertips hovered just shy of hers for a few seconds, before he withdrew his hand and straightened the contents of a file box instead.

Quistis nodded, and tried to focus on her work once more. The tension lingered between them for a while, an unfortunate distraction, but it slowly dissipated as the afternoon wore on and they found more reports to discuss. By the time Retta stopped by to announce her departure, Quistis and Argider were once again trading questions and ideas about the research before them.

"You two seem to work so well together," she remarked as they followed her downstairs.

"For the most part. But we do have our moments," Argider said, grinning at Quistis.

"Moments?"

"So far, nothing a solid discussion and a little time can't fix," Quistis added, returning his smile. Despite her embarrassment and frustration earlier in the afternoon, she still felt at ease around Argider. If anything, his professed dislike for Odine reinforced this feeling. "Affiliation by necessity," he had called it, and it was a concept she understood far too well. Different contexts aside, it was something they shared, something that nudged her a little bit closer to him than she had been that morning.

"Discussion?" Retta laughed. "You whet a woman's appetite for juicy gossip, and it turns out to be nothing more than intellectual sparring? Whatever am I going to do with both of you?"

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Quistis stood in the second-floor hallway, looking out the large window and smiling at the thunderheads rising at the periphery of the city. Argider shut the door to the archives behind him and joined her.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked.

"It feels like it's been years since I've seen clouds," Quistis said. "Those are impressive."

"Yeah, and better yet, they're a sign that summer's finally winding down. The cold fronts pushing in always make thunderstorms at this time of year. I, for one, welcome the rain."

"Me too."

"Well," Argider said, nodding toward the laboratory door, "pleasant as it is, talking about the weather won't further your research. Come on."

Quistis took a seat at one of the tables in the lab as Argider prepared the materials and instruments necessary for his demonstration of the distillation process. When he was ready, he opened a container and pulled out an inferno fang.

"The first part of this process is probably very familiar to you," he said, grinding the item down with a mortar and pestle. Quistis watched him work, noticing how the muscles in his hand and forearm flexed with the effort, veins and tendons straining against his skin. She blinked and averted her eyes, focusing instead on the distillation apparatus he had set up on the far counter.

"But here's where the differences begin," he continued, now that he had ground the fang into a fine powder. He added some water to the mortar and swirled the mixture around before pouring it into the distillation flask set on a small platform above a gas burner. "As you know, a raw inferno fang contains not only the element that blue mages absorb to learn the skill, but also other elements that are considered, in this case, contaminants: dragon saliva, organic matter from whatever the dragon last consumed, even traces of dirt and fragments of rock. Distilling the processed inferno fang allows us to separate the skill-bearing element from these contaminants."

Quistis took down notes. "To this point, the process looks like it can be undertaken by anyone with hands-on laboratory experience," she said. "What about the rest of the process requires that the resulting pill or potion be prepared only by properly trained individuals?"

"Good question. The distillation of an item, when properly done, concentrates the skill-bearing element. Special training is required to identify and administer the element in an appropriate dosage."

"And if it isn't?"

"Too little, and the skill never takes. Too much, and the blue mage is subjected to a good deal of physical pain, with or without hallucinogenic side effects." Argider laughed when Quistis looked up in alarm. "Don't worry, it doesn't kill the mage. The mage's condition usually improves within several months, once their body has processed and expelled the excess element. It is, however, a terrible ordeal, and the mental and physical strain it places on the blue mage can have lasting effects."

"How is the dosage determined?" Quistis winced, already guessing at the answer.

"Trial and error, I'm afraid," Argider said with a shrug. "Thankfully, that has been completed for most known skills, and we have very good guidelines from which to work."

When the process was complete, Argider took the flask with the distillate and held it up for her to see. The liquid inside was a brilliant red-orange, sparking gold like tiny flames where it caught the light. Argider explained that the method of delivery was up to the mage, but that pills had a more stable shelf life. He poured the distillate into a small bowl and stirred in a gelatinizing agent, then pipetted the mixture into waiting capsules. When he was finished, a dozen sparkling red capsules were arrayed on a tray before him.

"There you have it," he said. "You took good notes, I hope?"

"Of course." Quistis put on the glove he offered her and picked up one of the pills. Like the capsule of a distilled black hole he'd shown her the first time she'd visited the library, the contents of this capsule had an iridescent sheen. She turned the pill and stared at it for several moments, admiring the play of light and color. "The introduction of this procedure alone represents a big step forward in Garden's blue magic instruction. I wonder, however, if they will be able to put it into practice. Would you consider producing skill-bearing distillations for Garden?"

Argider put the capsules in a small box. "I wouldn't be averse to the idea, but access to these items is strictly regulated, and that issue would most likely fall under the category of international trade. I don't think it would hurt to attempt negotiations to that end, though."

When Argider finished cleaning up and they exited the laboratory, Quistis looked out the hallway windows and gasped. The clouds she'd seen earlier now stretched toward the city, already casting their shadows over the outlying neighborhoods. Farther in the distance, however, the space between the earth and the sky had disappeared, appearing to Quistis as if the land, thirsty for rain after so long, had taken the initiative and risen up to meet the clouds. A thick, roiling haze obscured the horizon, moving closer slowly but steadily, the city in its path.

"Ah, a good Estharian dust storm," Argider said. "If you were hoping for the weather to change, you just got your wish. You've never been here during one of these, have you?"

Quistis shook her head.

"It's an experience. Let's get downstairs. Right now, we're standing in one of the worst places to be."

It was indeed an experience. Quistis sat at one of the tables at the front of the library, far enough from the windows and glass doors to be safe, but still able to watch the dust cloud descend upon the city. Several unlucky citizens whom the storm had caught by surprise rushed into the library for shelter. Some chatted with Retta, while others joined Quistis to watch the chaos unfold outside.

The arrival of the rain was imperceptible at first, running down the windows as rivulets stained brown with dust, then opening into a full downpour punctuated by flashes of lightning. The sound it made on the roof was relaxing, and Quistis began to feel drowsy, only to be roused again by a crash of thunder.

Argider pulled a chair from an adjacent table and sat down next to her. "Pretty impressive, right?"

"Absolutely."

"I figure you must get a decent amount of rain in Balamb. This must feel like a call from an old friend."

"No, it's more like a call from a complete stranger. We do get quite a bit of rain in Balamb, and some pretty powerful storms blow in from the ocean, but this feels different, more like an eruption than a storm." Quistis paused. "After the weeks of heat and sunlight, this storm feels oddly cathartic."

"I understand what you mean. To me, it's like a fever breaking, especially considering the cool weather that follows."

Quistis looked at him. Argider was not normally given to figurative speech, but the storm seemed have a powerful effect on him. He watched it with a dreamy expression, a grin on his lips, lightning reflected in his eyes.

The small crowd in the library gasped and cried out as a tearing sound traversed the sky above them before culminating in a loud bang, then collectively groaned as the lights went out and the air conditioner fell silent.

"And there it goes," Retta said. "It wouldn't be a proper Estharian storm if we didn't lose power." She muttered under her breath about unsaved work and pulled two flashlights from the desk drawer. "I'd like to be optimistic and say it'll be back on before nightfall, but prior experience has taught me otherwise." Several patrons nodded and commiserated.

The storm subsided almost as quickly as it had arrived. The people who'd sought refuge in the library filed out into the darkened street, as the sun set and streaked the straggling clouds with crimson. Retta prepared to leave, wondering aloud what her boys were getting up to.

"With the power out, the lifts can't run," she explained, "and there's no quick way for my husband to get home from his job in the Financial District. My sons are staying with their friends' mother, but a passel of little boys, a power outage, and no shortage of puddles to splash in add up to a very stressed woman. I need to go rescue her." She smiled at Quistis. "Don't worry. With any luck, the power will be restored by the time your shift is over, and the lifts will be running again."

"Yeah, but luck is rarely reliable," Argider said once Retta had left. He pushed open both sets of doors and carried a pair of chairs into the vestibule. "Without the air conditioner, it's going to get uncomfortable in here really quickly. We can wait out the power outage by the front door. The rain cooled the air and there's a nice breeze."

"I'll collect my things first," Quistis said, accepting a flashlight from Argider. "I might be able to get a little more done, if only by flashlight." As she walked toward the back, she noticed that already, the air inside the library was growing warm and heavy with humidity. Quistis hurriedly packed her materials and went back outside, where Argider had struck up a conversation with a couple. The woman looked up as Quistis walked out, and her eyes widened. She clicked her tongue and shook her finger at Argider.

"Argider," she scolded, "where in the world have you been hiding such a lovely young lady?"

"Where else? I keep her in the second-floor storage room." He turned to Quistis and feigned surprise. "Curses! She's escaped!" He broke into a wide grin as Quistis and the couple laughed, then introduced them to each other.

The couple owned a nearby restaurant and were distributing food they had already prepared but feared would go bad with no refrigeration. "Outages aren't uncommon in Esthar, especially around this time of year," the man explained, handing Quistis a container. "However, there is a hierarchy of necessity when it comes to restoration. The city center is the electric company's priority, for obvious reasons. Once power is restored to that sector, the rest of the city slowly comes back on."

"So, in all likelihood, your apartment's gotten power back already," Argider added, already starting on his food. "The only problem is getting there."

"You might as well just relax here," the woman said. "Depending on the nature of the outage, the wait for restoration might not be too long."

Quistis appreciated the woman's attempt at reassurance, but saw the skeptical look she exchanged with her husband. The couple chatted for a few more minutes, then excused themselves to distribute more food. Argider and Quistis remained where they were until closing time, making sporadic small talk, but mostly enjoying the storm-cooled air and each other's quiet company.

"Looks like we're in for a long one, this time," Argider said, rising and stretching. "Well, Quistis, with the lifts down, you have two options. You can wait here for the power to come back on, but aside from pushing a few chairs together out here, there's nowhere to rest when you get tired. Or, you could walk back to your apartment. It's a fairly long way, but it's possible."

Quistis considered this. She hated sitting idle, and really didn't want to keep Argider at the library unnecessarily, but she was unsure how to find her way back to the city center, especially in the dark. She supposed she could follow the lift tubes. It was better than doing nothing.

"I think I'll head back," she said.

"Great! I'm coming, too."

"That's not necessary. I'll be fine."

"Oh, I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself. But there are a few other reasons I'm tagging along. One, it's a lovely night for a stroll, wouldn't you agree?" He smiled and paused, but when Quistis didn't respond, he continued. "Two, I don't relish the prospect of spending the night in a stuffy apartment. I can book a room at a hotel in the city center and get some decent rest. And, most importantly, three: I don't believe you know the way back on foot, do you? Following lift tubes becomes nearly impossible once you reach the Industrial District."

"That's true," Quistis admitted. She carried a chair inside and wondered how honest he'd been when he claimed to be bad at anticipating others' questions or needs. "I appreciate your help."

"It's my pleasure." He flicked on the flashlight. "I'm going to gather my things, and, since the cleaning crew won't be able to work tonight, I'll just run a quick check of the building so we don't have a mess to deal with in the morning." Quistis watched the beam of his flashlight disappear between the shelves.

Satisfied with his inspection, he reemerged with his backpack slung over one shoulder and keys at the ready. As he locked the library doors behind them, Quistis began walking in the direction of the lift station. He called her back.

"This way." He pointed down the street in the opposite direction. "No sense going a half-mile out of our way for a station that's not even in service now."

Above them, the clouds, tinged pink by the lights that had already been restored, broke apart to reveal pockets of night sky dotted with stars that were normally outcompeted by those same lights. A gentle wind pushed the clouds along, dragging them across the full moon. Quistis smiled and breathed deep; the scents of damp concrete and asphalt were not nearly as pleasant as the natural smells of the Balamb countryside after a rain, but they were cool and refreshing nonetheless.

"This is nice," she said, and was startled by a scoff from the shadows.

"It's a damn nuisance, is what it is," the scoffer said. He was an older man, wiry and balding. He leaned against the front of what appeared to be a small shop and nodded at them. "Good evening, Argider," he continued. "Who's your cheerful little friend here?"

"Hello, Mitri," Argider said politely. He explained who Quistis was and where they were headed. Mitri, however, seemed wholly uninterested in hearing the answer to his own question, and instead grumbled about potential thieves lurking in the darkness. He had committed to staying at his business all night, if need be, to discourage such delinquents, and admonished Argider for not doing the same.

"Don't mind him," Argider said when they'd moved out of earshot. "Mitri isn't happy if he isn't complaining about something or other."

"But is it a legitimate complaint?" Quistis asked, peering into dark alleys as they passed. "Are thieves a problem here?"

"I'm sure there are a few individuals with such ambitions on their minds tonight, but hardly in the numbers Mitri would have you believe. You're better off worrying about the sidewalks here. They're uneven in a lot of areas, and the rain can make them slick."

Several blocks later, Argider unintentionally proved his point, tripping on an uneven slab of concrete. He cursed and stumbled forward. Instinctively, Quistis grabbed his arm, pulling him back, while stretching her other arm across his chest to help slow his fall. She felt his weight on her arm and pushed back, helping him right himself. For several seconds, neither of them moved. Quistis could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, his heartbeat against her arm. Argider, meanwhile, still looked forward, blinking as if he couldn't understand how he had not hit the ground. Then, slowly, he turned to face her, wearing a lopsided grin.

"Wow," he said.

Quistis, suddenly aware of their proximity, stepped back and released her hold on him, folding her arms across her chest to steady her own pounding heart and trying to act nonchalant. "I suppose that was another one of your demonstrations," she said coolly.

"Yeah …" Argider shook his head and began to laugh, softly at first, but soon building into a deep, rich sound that Quistis found infectious. The two of them continued for a few moments more, then, as their laughter died down, Argider spoke again. "That was a ridiculous coincidence. I guess I wasn't following my own advice."

"Clearly." A stray giggle bubbled up, and Quistis pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle it.

"But, damn, you are strong! Nearly pulled me back up single-handedly." Concern flashed across his face. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Of course not. Don't underestimate a SeeD woman." The storm-charged air and the laughter must have gone to her head, because she couldn't resist flexing a bicep to underscore her point.

Argider chuckled. "Duly noted."

Quistis sighed as they resumed their journey, noticing a pleasant, almost giddy, feeling spreading through her chest. She was actually disappointed when they turned a corner and the skyways came into view.

The city center was ablaze with light, and on the sections of skyway that had already been cleaned, people strolled and chatted, the storm, for them, already a distant memory. Argider accompanied Quistis just beyond the shopping mall. He gestured toward a branch of the skyway lined with restaurants and hotels.

"My destination's this way, so I suppose this is where we say good night," he said. "You know, despite the power outage – or maybe because of it – this turned out to be a pleasant evening. Thank you."

Quistis frowned. "For what?"

"For sharing it with me."

"I had a choice?" She gave him her slyest smile.

Argider seemed taken aback. "Well, no, not exactly," he stammered. "But you were pretty good at making the best of the situation, and –"

"And I enjoyed the evening, too." She crossed her arms and leaned forward, looking up at him. "I don't think I've ever seen you flustered before."

"I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"Yes, I'm sure that's it. In that case, you'd better hurry and find a place to rest."

They shared a smile and bid each other good night. As Quistis walked in the direction of her apartment, the giddy sensation intensified, breaking free of her ribcage and setting her insides aflutter. She had been unusually forward just now, her confidence drawn forth in response to Argider's uncharacteristic bumbling. Perhaps he really was just tired; perhaps they both were. Or, perhaps the storm had excited something in both of them, the fury of the wind and the lightning and the coolness of the rain acting as a powerful intoxicant.

Whatever the reason, Quistis realized with only a sliver of dismay that she enjoyed this new dynamic between them. She wondered whether it was sustainable, or whether with a good rest and clear heads, both of them would retreat to their previously established relationship, so professional, so safe. However, as she entered her apartment and flicked on the light, she also wondered whether that was possible at all, or whether they'd unwittingly set a significant change into motion.

In a more rational mindset, Quistis would have scolded herself for even considering the possibilities that might arise from this evening. But tonight, she abandoned reason and allowed herself the luxury of imagining a life that was more than work, more than worry. A life worth looking forward to, worth sharing – someday, some distant day – with somebody else.

Out of habit, she opened her laptop and turned it on. She was surprised to see that the little clock in the corner read 22:43. She was even more surprised at the number of notifications that sprung up across the screen, most of them from Xu. The most recent one read, in all capital letters, "GIVING UP FOR TONIGHT. HAVE FUN, WHEREVER THE HELL YOU ARE."

Quistis giggled into her palm. She composed a short, only semi-apologetic note to Xu, hit the "Send" button, then powered down her laptop and settled back onto the couch, closing her eyes and letting her giggle become a full-blown laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

"Angelo, no!" Rinoa's voice came through the speakers on Quistis' computer, but all Quistis could see in the communication window was Angelo's hairy snout. "I know you miss Quistis," Rinoa said, pulling Angelo toward her, "but she's not here right now. That's just a video call."

"I highly doubt Angelo understands anything you're telling her." Squall's voice came through from off-screen.

"You never know. Don't underestimate her."

As Rinoa and Squall discussed Angelo's theoretical comprehension skills, Selphie poked into view, a glittery party hat on her head, and tooted a cheap plastic horn.

"Happy birthday, Quisty!" she said. "Whoo-hoo!" She blew on the horn again, long and loud, until Squall shouted at her to stop.

"Oh my goodness, you remembered!" Quistis said. "Thank you so much!"

"Of course we remembered." Rinoa rejoined the conversation, donning a party hat of her own. "Happy birthday! …Right, Squall?"

Quistis heard a mumbled approximation of the greeting and chuckled.

"So, how're you gonna celebrate?" Selphie asked. "Got any _special plans_?" she added with a wink.

"What about cake?" Rinoa asked, diverting Selphie's interrogation. "There's a recipe for one –"

"Ms. Moogle's cake!"

"- in the cookbook. You haven't even used the cookbook yet, have you?"

"I have!" Quistis said in mock-defensiveness, smiling nonetheless. "I've used it a few times already, as a matter of fact." She had, but she'd only ventured to try what she determined were the simplest recipes in the book. Mostly vegetable dishes, because she felt confident that, even for someone with her inexperience, vegetables were impossible to mess up. She'd proven otherwise on her first few attempts.

The three friends chatted, catching up with each other's news. Quistis told them how her research was progressing and how the weather was finally cooling down; Selphie gave an update on the restoration of Trabia Garden; and Rinoa mentioned that Squall was particularly grumpy because Xu and Cid were pressuring him into supervising the next SeeD field exam. Quistis tried to imagine him in the same position she'd been in three years ago, but found it impossible. She preemptively felt sorry for the students under his supervision.

"Um," said Selphie, chewing on the mouthpiece of her horn, "Xu says we're not allowed to ask you about Argider, but –" she leaned close to the camera and dropped her voice to a whisper - "How's he doing? Still a hunk?"

Quistis laughed. "Don't worry about Xu," she said. "Argider's doing well. And yes, he's still …" she bit her lip and looked down, embarrassed to repeat Selphie's exact term.

"That's fine, it's all I needed to know!" Selphie beamed.

After the conversation ended, Quistis thought about Selphie's first questions and sighed. She _did_ have plans for tonight. A very important date, in fact … with a textbook and a stack of old lab reports. No matter; that was why she was here, after all. Her spirits buoyed by her friends' well wishes, she cleared away the remains of her dinner and dove into her work.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"Found it!" Argider said, jabbing his finger into the page of a textbook. "Well, something like it, anyway." He picked up the book and walked to where Quistis sat working.

"It's not comprehensive," he apologized, "and it's a bit dated, but here's a decent table describing the effectiveness of different methods of introduction across several skills."

Quistis raised her eyebrows. "You kept looking?" she asked. "It's been almost a month since I asked about this. I just assumed it didn't exist."

Argider grinned, boyish and charming. "You give up too easily. If it exists, I'll find it."

"Don't let the success go to your head." Quistis smiled and took the book from him. Exchanges like these were becoming more common between them. Since the night of the storm, their relationship had undergone a subtle shift. Still professional, they had nonetheless relaxed around each other. Distant comfort gave way to familiarity, and clinical discussion was interspersed with playful banter. Argider's clumsiness that night humanized him in Quistis' mind, stripped away his accumulated knowledge and experience to reveal a person underneath, one capable of getting flustered, one as subject to the laws of physics as anyone else. And the surge of confidence she'd felt in the wake of this revelation was like a taste of a long-forgotten delicacy: heady, sweet, and terribly addictive.

She'd lost it once; there was no way she was letting it slip away again.

Quistis looked over the table and the accompanying text, chewing on the cap of her pen and frowning. "The biggest problem with blue magic research," she said finally, "is that you can't remove a skill once it's been learned. Once we know that one method works for a particular individual, there's no way of knowing whether the other methods would have been just as effective. Furthermore, I'm not sure I like the _research_ method used here. According to the information, the skill-bearing item was administered in only one way to each individual, regardless of success."

Argider pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. "Go on."

"So if, for example, the raw ingestion method didn't confer its respective skill on the test subject, no attempt was made to discover whether another method might be effective. The levels of effectiveness seem pretty even across all methods, but considering that distillation concentrates the skill-bearing element and gives control over the amount administered, I thought I'd see a significant advantage represented here. What if it worked in cases where the other methods didn't, and vice versa? By not allowing those who failed to gain a skill the chance to try another method, there's no way to determine whether the cause is the individual's constitution or the method of introduction."

Argider slid the book over to himself and read through the section again. "You're right. This isn't the comparative chart you were looking for, after all." He sighed. "Looks like we're back to square one."

"Or two. The information isn't completely useless."

Argider was quiet for a moment, thinking. "How many skills did you say you've learned? Fifteen?"

"Sixteen."

"Right." He pointed at the chart. "There are twenty skills on this chart. Which ones haven't you learned?"

Quistis leaned over, running down the list with her pen. "Let's see ... Ice Breath ... Cutting Gale, Nullify, and ... Maelstrom. I didn't even know we were capable of learning that one."

"Dead spirits aren't easy to come by. Most blue mages ignore Maelstrom for that reason."

"Why did you want to know which skills I haven't learned?"

Argider looked at her sideways, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Are you up for a little experiment?"

Experiment? Quistis' eyes widened and she leaned back to get a better view of his face, to judge whether he was being serious. He was. "I assume you want to see if I can learn a new skill through a distillate."

Argider nodded.

"What about the side effects?"

"As I've said before, we have very good guidelines to work from for most of the skills you mentioned. It's perfectly safe."

Quistis looked away, tapping the end of her pen against her thumb. She knew he was telling the truth, especially if the Estharian army trusted him to administer the items to their blue mages. Still, she couldn't shake the fear of the outside possibility she'd end up bedridden for months, plagued with terrible hallucinations. And then there was the idea of becoming a sort of lab rat ... however ...

"I'll do it," she said. As his expression brightened, she added, "On one condition."

"What's that?"

She pointed to the chart and asked him the question he'd asked her. He pointed to several skills — Level ? Death, Mighty Guard, Shockwave Pulsar — and the grin disappeared from his face.

"If you want me to try a new method of introduction, you're going to do so as well," Quistis said. "You know, for statistical accuracy."

Argider shrugged. "Fair enough. I may have a barrier or two lying around."

"Great! It shouldn't take long to process, then we can take our respective items at the same time and see what happens."

"Same time? Who'll run the battle simulator?"

"Is it that difficult to run? Maybe Retta can do it, and monitor our conditions while we're in there. I'm sure she wouldn't mind a change of pace."

"This is crazy, you know that? But I can't deny it's intriguing." He rose. "I'll go ask Retta."

Quistis watched him walk away, satisfied with herself for not blindly going along with his suggestion, though she knew he meant no harm. She was surprised, however, and grateful that he had agreed to her plan so quickly.

"Of course I'll help!" Retta cried, loud enough for Quistis to hear her clearly in the back. "Why should you scientific types have all the fun?"

Argider returned, rolling back his sleeves. "It's all set, then," he said. "Retta has agreed to come back for a few hours after we close to monitor the experiment, which gives us plenty of time to prepare."

"Thank you," said Quistis.

Argider looked down, smiling and running a hand through his hair. "It's no problem," he said. "It just took me by surprise. Where did that initiative come from?"

"I've been known to have flashes of brilliance now and then."

"More often than you realize."

He'd said it quietly, and probably didn't intend for her to hear. But she had, and she watched as he stood there, obviously lost in thought, desperate to know what those thoughts were. When he turned and caught her staring, she quickly looked back at the texts in front of her, wincing as she felt her ears go hot.

"Like I said, plenty of time to prepare." He retrieved the textbook from Quistis' table and took it back to his desk. "In the meantime, I think I'll keep looking for that elusive information you seek."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

 _In order to properly compare and analyze the different academic approaches to the study of blue magic, it is important to understand the basic ideas underlying its foremost theories and hypotheses._

 _ **Relative Maturity Theory:**_ _Developed by T. Ehren, this theory argues that the strength and efficacy of skill-bearing items varies based on the maturity of the creature from which the items are obtained. In some cases, the theory posits, different skills can be learned from the same kind of item depending on how mature the creature was when the item was obtained. The practical applications of this theory are still being researched._

 _ **Stable Effect Theory:**_ _A counter-argument to the Relative Maturity Theory, the Stable Effect Theory, proposed by G. Merrin, argues that the skills learned from a specific kind of item remain the same regardless of the maturity of the creature from which the item was obtained. This theory is backed by copious research and is widely accepted. Proponents argue that the data on which the RMT is based is flawed and limited, and in each test case, other factors existed that may have contributed to the results. Replication of those results has occurred, but with very little frequency or consistency._

 _ **Natural Affinity Hypothesis:**_ _Proposed by N. Fahit, this hypothesis suggests that the effectiveness of skill-bearing items and the strength of skills learned is directly related to individual elemental/magical affinity. For example, a blue mage with an affinity for fire-based spells would either be unable to learn an ice-based skill or learn one that is weak in comparison to other skills. This hypothesis is currently undergoing rigorous testing._

\- F. Adler and A. Cato, "Blue Magic Theories and Hypotheses: A Practical Analysis of the Leading Intellectual Discourses in the Field", from _Shifting Perspectives: Classic and New Views on Blue Magic Research_ , P. Mataraci, ed.

Barriers were relatively small items, especially considering their source. Each was an irregularly-shaped pane of light translucent material, about the size of a dinner plate. Quistis broke a chunk off of the one Argider handed her, then placed the piece in the mortar and began to grind it down.

Argider sat at the table in the laboratory, a paper cup full of water in front of him, and watched Quistis work. Retta sat next to him, straight-backed, attentive, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"You know," Argider said, "I don't mind processing the barrier for myself."

"But this is only fair," said Quistis, not looking up from her task. She pushed down hard with the pestle and continued working the item into dust. "I take an item you prepare, you take one I prepare."

Retta chuckled. "Uh-oh. Is the student becoming the teacher?"

"I hope not," Argider answered. "If she keeps this up, I might be out of a job."

"Oh, please," said Quistis, motioning for the cup of water. "Don't be so dramatic." She poured the powder into the cup, gave it a vigorous stir, and set it back down in front of Argider. "Drink up."

"Not until you do, too."

Quistis grabbed her own cup of water and held up a tiny, dark blue pill. In the field, she'd come across plenty of north winds, and, in the spirit of experimentation, she had even tried filing one down to see if it had any effect. Until she saw it listed in the books she'd found here, she assumed it simply did not confer any blue magic skill at all. She took the pill, then watched Argider finish his mixture. He set down the cup, made a face, and shook his head.

"I'll never understand how you did that sixteen times," he said.

"What now?'

"Now, we wait. Distillates usually begin to work in about twenty minutes to an hour. I assume processed items have the same time frame?"

"Yes."

As they waited for the items to take effect, Argider showed Retta around the testing chamber, explaining to her how the simulator worked and what to watch for on the conditions monitor. She settled in behind the console, examining the buttons and sliders and reading the notes Argider had left with her. Argider, meanwhile, untangled several brightly-colored wires and opened a box to remove a handful of medical electrodes. He fastened them to himself first: one on each temple, one on his chest, and, lifting his shirt for access, three more farther down his torso, along his ribs.

Even knowing that what he was doing was purely technical, even with Retta sitting six feet away, Quistis tensed when Argider reached out and brushed her hair aside to attach the first electrode, fighting a powerful urge to lean into his touch. She felt herself blush at the unbidden thought, and her color only deepened as he attached an electrode to her other temple. Then, without words or hesitation, he dropped the remaining electrodes in her palm and handed her a diagram showing their proper placement. He turned around, pretending to run a final check on the simulator and monitors to give her a bit of privacy.

As she finished, she felt the first effects of the pill. A dull ache began in her head, followed by a jolt of energy that made her stand straight and wince at its intensity. Ice Breath learned.

Minutes later, Argider weathered the effects of his item more subtly. He lowered his head into his hands, and a spasm of his shoulders signified the effect's completion. "One more thing," he said afterward, producing two small yellow stones that sparked and crackled with energy. Aura stones. He gave one to Quistis and she squeezed it in her palm, feeling its heat rushing through her arm, directly to her brain. Her heartbeat quickened, her pupils dilated, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. In this heightened state, she nearly swiped at Argider when he approached to attach the wires to the electrodes on her temples. He handed her the rest and turned away.

Retta took in the entire process through wide eyes, and at Argider's command, she pressed a button that opened the door to the simulator proper.

Inside, a hologram appeared, taking the shape of a Behemoth. Quistis readied her attack, but Argider motioned for her to wait. He dipped his head in concentration, then executed the Mighty Guard skill. Quistis felt the familiar tingle of support spells washing over her and gave him an approving grin. Returning her smile, Argider nodded at the hologram. It was time.

Quistis crossed her arms over her chest, looking down slightly, focusing her energies. She felt the skill stirring inside her, little flurries swirling in her chest, growing stronger, moving faster, until it felt like a blizzard was battering the inside of her ribcage, begging to be let out. She felt that energy swell, felt it rise, then opened her mouth to give it release.

The hologram flickered, but did not disappear. Argider gave her a thumbs-up, then asked if she would like to try again. She said yes, and he signaled to Retta through the door. Three repetitions later, she was done. The aura effect was wearing off and she suddenly felt very tired.

"I'd never seen a blue mage in action before," Retta said, coiling the wires that Quistis had detached from herself. "That was incredible!"

"Thank you," Quistis replied, unsure what else to say. She grimaced as she removed the final electrode, then inspected the strands of hair that remained stuck to it. "Learning a new skill is always interesting. I don't know whether it will work until I actually try to use it."

Argider studied the printouts from the monitor. "Everything looks normal here," he said. "Well, 'normal' for this situation. I have to admit, I had never considered reverting to older methods of introduction once the distillations failed me. From what I've heard for years, distillates are the be-all and end-all of skill-bearing items, because of their purity. But perhaps there's more to it than that."

"Individual and item compositions, most likely. The Natural Affinity Hypothesis posits that individual elemental affinities determine the efficacy of absorption and use of a skill, but that doesn't explain why some mages have trouble absorbing non-elemental and support skills. Maybe it's something as simple as a difference in how each individual internally processes an item. In some cases, perhaps the presence of organic matter helps absorption, whereas in other cases, it hinders it." Quistis sighed. "We'd need to collect more data before we can be sure of anything."

"Then why don't we?"

Quistis looked up. "From where?"

"I'm going to a government conference in a few days," Argider said. "There, I'll be able to contact the heads of the Estharian army directly. Let me see if I can persuade them to send us some blue mages for testing. It won't be a large sample, but it's still more than we have right now. Then, we'll be able to put this hypothesis of yours to work."

"Do you think they'll agree?"

He shrugged. "We'll never know until we try."

"And those who never try will never know."

"Huh?"

Quistis laughed. "Nothing, it's just a silly saying I once heard."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"While the cat's away the mice will play," Retta said in a singsong voice. "Or, rather, the mouse will daydream!"

Quistis tore her gaze from the window, where she'd been staring at nothing in particular, and noticed Retta smiling at her from the front desk.

"I'm sorry," she said, organizing the papers in front of her. "I just can't concentrate today. Maybe it's because I woke up earlier than I have been doing these past few months." She had agreed to work on Retta's shift today, while Argider attended his conference.

"Or perhaps it's the absence of the light of your research life," Retta offered with a wink.

Quistis chuckled. "No, that's not it. I work just fine at my apartment."

"Then take a break and come join me. I could use a bit of help processing these returns. Don't worry, I won't tell Argider."

Quistis accepted Retta's offer, sitting next to her and going through a pile of books, scanning each one in and placing it on a cart to be reshelved. She looked at the titles in passing: _An Illustrated Introduction to the Laws of Physics_ , _Para-Magic and You: A Beginner's Guide_ , _Pillars of the Past: Excavating the Ruins of the Holy Dollet Empire_ , _The Legend of Vascaroon_. Quistis held onto the last book and stared at its title. She had heard this legend told by one of the White SeeDs while on their ship. At that point, she'd believed it was the remnants of an oral tradition, but here the story had been written down and annotated by the authors. She flipped through the book, stopping every now and then to read a random section.

Retta looked over. "Find something interesting?" she asked. "Oh, _Vascaroon_. That's one of our more popular books. Do you know the story?"

Quistis nodded. "I've heard it told. I just didn't think I'd run across it here."

"Oh yes, we have quite a collection of old texts. Most were hidden away during Adel's reign, not only to prevent her associates from deciding which we were allowed to read, but also to not give her any more ideas about her own power. We have origin stories, foundation myths, plenty of information on sorceresses and Hyne –"

"That's amazing," Quistis interrupted, thinking immediately of Rinoa. "I have a friend who is intensely interested in those subjects, and she visits Esthar regularly. Do you mind if I refer her to you?"

"Not at all. It would be nice to have someone to share this information with. I have to admit, watching you and Argider working together, I sometimes get a little jealous."

"You have an impressive collection. Did you help curate it?"

"Yes, but it wasn't something I'd ever imagined having the opportunity to do. Argider approached me not long after Dr. Vardan established this library and asked whether I would like to work here. He said he'd read some of my work during his university studies, and was impressed with my argument that scientific advancements cannot be separated from the culture in which they occurred, or even from the cultures they benefit, knowingly or not. He said that, in the spirit of that argument, he wanted to include a cultural and historical collection in the library to contextualize the scientific information already available, and he asked if I would be interested in curating it."

She paused and smiled at the memory. "I'm really very grateful to him. Not many in Esthar would waste their time on a non-scientific person like myself."

"Waste their time?" Quistis frowned. "You just told me your work had been used in a university course, and Argider has said you're one of the most intelligent people he's met. How could anyone consider you a waste of time?"

"Because Esthar worships science, and I really don't have a head for it." Retta put down the book she was checking in. "In a highly technological society, it's difficult to not have an aptitude for technology, or engineering, mathematics, hard science. But there I was, the little girl with her head in the clouds, always looking for some fantastic story to read, some legendary characters from our pasts. When I was six years old, Adel took power and deemed things like the arts and the social sciences unnecessary, even dangerous, in that they filled our heads with impractical dreams and contributed nothing to the Esthar war machine. I forced myself to learn communications technology and maintenance, because well, it's still about people talking to each other, right? Sharing stories, even if those stories are bland.

"That's why I'm grateful to Argider for giving me this chance." Retta smiled. "Working here, I'm useful again. I'm able to curate the works that I believe are important to our identities and our shared history. Works that are important in understanding the world that _was_ , so that we can make the world we _want_ in the future."

She took the book Quistis was holding and checked it in. "But now, story time's over," she said with a chuckle. "You've got work to do, and I don't want you using my conversation as an excuse not to do it!"

Quistis moved her materials to the back of the library in an attempt to focus, but it did little good. Retta's story joined the other thoughts swirling in her mind, and she was staring blankly at a textbook when Retta tapped on one of the shelves behind her. Quistis turned around.

"Quistis," Retta said, smiling, "you have a visitor."

Before Quistis could run through the list of people who even knew where she was, Retta stepped aside, and an orange cat trotted past her.

"Wilbur!" Quistis exclaimed. She'd seen Wilbur making deliveries in the neighborhood, but hadn't interacted with him until now. He sat down in front of her, facing away, waiting for her to remove the plastic tube attached to his harness. She did so, and slid out the note inside.

 _Quistis –_

 _I don't believe you two have been properly introduced. Wilbur, Quistis. Quistis, Wilbur._

 _With that out of the way, please allow me to apologize again for not being available to work with you today. I'm still trapped in the conference at the Presidential Palace. I have, however, spoken with some military officials about blue mage testing, and their responses so far have been encouraging._

 _I will be free by this evening, and I would like to know if you'd care to join me then for a light meal. Nothing fancy, but just a chance for us to talk and enjoy some Estharian cuisine. After being surrounded by bureaucrats all day, goodness knows I'm in desperate need of some intelligent conversation._

 _Send your reply with Wilbur. He knows where to find me._

 _\- Argider_

He'd provided the name and address of the restaurant on a separate slip of paper. Quistis stared at the address, then reread the note, unsure how to interpret it. It sounded like a request for a dinner date, and she wondered how appropriate it would be for her to accept his invitation in that context. Then again, the language he used – "light meal", "nothing fancy" – suggested he had foreseen her interpretation and wanted to discourage the notion. She glanced down at Wilbur, as if the cat could offer her guidance, but he simply sat there and cleaned himself.

The giddy feeling she was becoming used to having in situations where Argider was involved returned, and filled her with a sense of confidence and adventure. She would go, she decided, but if he offered to pay for anything, she would decline and pay for it herself. That way, it couldn't possibly be a date, just a nice dinner with an associate. She scribbled her answer on the back of Argider's note, rolled the paper up and stuck it back in the tube, then attached the tube to Wilbur's harness.

"Here you go," she said softly. "He says you know where to find him."

She hoped she was doing the right thing.

Wilbur disappeared among the shelves, and Quistis heard Retta bid him farewell.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Argider's insistence on eschewing Estharian robes made him easy to locate, especially in the city center. He smiled when he saw Quistis, and met her in front of the restaurant's entrance.

"Thanks for coming," he said.

"I had half a mind to decline your invitation," Quistis admitted. "It sounded suspiciously like a request for a dinner date."

"Would that have been a bad thing?"

Quistis felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "Maybe. I'm not sure. But it would be awkward!"

Argider laughed. "Then this is definitely not a date. I asked if you'd consider meeting me here because I'd like to discuss some developments in regard to the project we're planning, and since I was already in the city center and neither of us have had dinner yet ... I thought a change in the routine would be nice."

"That's not entirely convincing."

"Then the only alternative is the whole truth. I wanted to see you. I've spent all day shut in a room listening to people drone on about things that don't relate at all to what I do. I got ten minutes to present my quarterly report, request budget changes, and highlight potential issues, then it was back to sitting on the sidelines. I've never enjoyed going to these conferences, but I've never wanted to be back at the library as badly as I did today."

He looked her in the eyes as he said this, so open and sincere that it made her heart ache. She knew her face must be an unseemly shade of red at the moment, and she broke her gaze away just as her eyes began to fill with inexplicable tears. _I wanted to see you._ She couldn't recall an instance in which those words hadn't preceded some inane request, or, worse, a rebuke.

 _I wanted to see you, Cid said, to discuss what happened during today's field exam. According to reports from the other SeeDs and cadets present, Seifer decided to abandon his post and order his fellow cadets to go along. Once again, his gross insubordination has prevented him from realizing his full potential, but I think it reflects yours very clearly. You were hired to make cadets into SeeDs, to train this kind of behavior out of them. This is Seifer's fourth failed attempt, and as he is your student, I hold you accountable for not reforming his behavior. As a SeeD, you are outstanding, but as an instructor, you lack the leadership qualities necessary to retain your position. The faculty and I have conferred, and we have decided that your employment as an instructor will be terminated, effective at midnight. I'm sorry, Quistis. Please use the remaining hours to tie up any loose ends you may have, then report to my office tomorrow morning to receive your new orders._

"Hey." Argider's hand on her shoulder pulled her back to the present. He titled his head questioningly, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

It took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Then, she blinked away the tears, shook off the memory, and sighed. "Yes, I am," she said, forcing a smile.

"We don't have to go in. Not if you don't feel comfortable."

"No, I'm fine." Something was changing. She could feel it. A shift somewhere deep in her consciousness, triggered by the contrast in the way Argider said he wanted to see her and the way everyone else had wanted to see her. So this was what it felt like to be a person, to be a complete person in relation to somebody else, not just a faceless resource. This difference, perhaps so small to others, kindled a tiny flame in her heart, one of confidence and rebellion, and she felt as if she was beginning to shed the shackles of Garden for good. She drew herself up, her smile genuine now, and stepped toward the restaurant's doors. "Shall we go in?"

The restaurant was a casual establishment, well-lit and crowded. Quistis and Argider were seated at a table by a window overlooking a small courtyard shared with neighboring businesses, and as she watched the bustle of people outside, Quistis started to relax. Argider began to talk about the research project, prefacing his announcement with details of the conference, but was interrupted when a waiter approached to take their orders. When the waiter finished scribbling down Argider's order and turned to Quistis, she immediately asked for her order to be placed on a separate check.

"You don't have to do that," Argider protested.

"I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of your hospitality otherwise," she explained.

"It's really no trouble."

"Argider, you were never perfectly clear about the exact nature of this evening. If I let you pay for my dinner, then this _does_ become a date."

Argider gaped at her for a moment, then smiled and shook his head.

The waiter seemed confused. "So, will that be one check or two?" he asked.

"Two," Quistis and Argider answered in unison, then began to laugh.

"So," Quistis said, after their laughter subsided, "you were going to tell me what the military officials said in response to your request for test subjects."

"It wasn't an outright yes - they aren't able to give permission for something like this offhand. However, the officers I spoke to today expressed interest in the project, which I interpreted as encouragement to begin the process."

"Process?"

"We'll have to draft a proposal and submit it through the proper channels. Then, if the proposal is accepted, the military will draw up a contract outlining the conditions under which we may proceed with our research. Once all terms are agreed upon, they will provide our test subjects."

"It sounds like a _lengthy_ process."

Argider sighed. "It is. However, I may be able to pull some strings to expedite it, and get this project started before your sabbatical ends. We have what, three months, and a few weeks?"

"Yes."

"All right, I'll speak to Kiros, see if we can set up a meeting with the Estharian army. I'll try to shoot for getting everything ready by the beginning of next month."

"Thank you."

Argider held up his hands. "Hey, I can't make any promises. This might fail spectacularly, and we won't get clearance until next year."

"Regardless of the outcome, you're trying. I appreciate it." She smiled at him, and another feeling stirred inside her. It was similar to the one she'd had when leaving Balamb, but the flow of energy seemed different; leaving home had felt draining, but this new sensation was quite the opposite, a gentle warmth that filled the holes in her spirit, sanded the rough edges of failure and cushioned the weight of loneliness. Whatever this evening was, she was glad she had accepted Argider's invitation.

The "official" reason for the dinner having been exhausted even before the food arrived, Argider and Quistis moved the conversation to more general topics: Esthar, the library, each other.

"I was speaking with Retta today," Quistis said between bites of food, "and she told me that you personally recruited her to work at the library. Why didn't you mention that before?"

"I didn't think it was relevant information," Argider answered. "I'd rather Retta's accomplishments stand on their own."

"She said you'd remembered her name from something you'd read at the university."

Argider nodded. "I took a course in Estharian cultural history while I was at the university and I remember reading an article that stood out to me. It argued for the value of the humanities, and explained how scientific advancement cannot have meaning in a sociocultural vacuum. It made me think, especially of the history of my particular skill and what it meant to people so long ago, how it was regarded as the power of a god ... and how it's become so clinical and mundane now. I guess I wanted it to have that extra meaning again, something special." He laughed. "Dr. Vardan used to tell me I was a romantic, in that sense, and if there ever was a major point of contention between us, it was about my tendency to ascribe meanings to phenomena beyond what the objective data revealed. Over the years, I've learned to rein that tendency in.

"Anyway, I managed to convince Dr. Vardan to include a cultural and historical section in the library, not on the grounds of providing context to the scientific information, but on the grounds that it would attract more visitors. When he approved my idea, my first thought was to contact Retta. Aside from teaching courses at the university every now and then, she had no other work, and so she accepted my offer."

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Quistis teased.

"I'm sure you have a few of your own," Argider answered, leaning forward and dropping his voice nearly to a whisper. "I imagine there are plenty of things you're 'not at liberty to share,' am I right?"

"You're awfully nosy."

"I prefer the term 'curious.'"

"As a cat."

"Look who's talking." They shared another laugh. "Speaking of cats," Argider continued, "I hope you enjoyed your little reunion today."

"Of course! It was delightful and unexpected. I've seen Wilbur coming and going from deliveries, but you were right, we hadn't been properly introduced yet."

The evening air had a chill edge, and Quistis shivered as she stepped out of the restaurant. She pulled down the sleeves of her blouse and rubbed her arms. She thanked Argider for his invitation, and as they bid each other good night, he placed his hand on her shoulder again.

It was a friendly gesture, but now that she was not absorbed in thoughts of frustration and resentment, she was cognizant of his warmth, of the dormant strength transformed into a gentle weight. This time, she leaned toward his touch, ever so slightly, and he gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

She nodded. "Very much so."

"I'm glad." He smiled. "Tomorrow morning, I'll go ahead and see if I can set up that meeting with the army officials, and then we can get started drafting a proposal. Does that sound all right?"

"It sounds perfect."

Even after they parted, the warmth of his hand lingered, seeping inward from her shoulder straight to her heart, setting into motion the multitude of tiny fluttering things that seemed to have taken up residence inside her chest. The sensation persisted even after she reached her apartment and turned on her computer to read through the usual messages from Xu, and subsided only when she noticed an urgent request to call Garden.

"I thought you said you were getting out early today," Xu said without preamble the moment the connection had completed.

"I did, but I stopped for dinner on the way back to the apartment." Quistis was beginning to tire of accounting for her time.

"For two hours?"

"The restaurant was crowded." She couldn't help but grin at the memory of her evening, a detail Xu did not miss.

"What's going on over there? You look a little giddy — a little tipsy." Xu's eyes widened. "Quistis, are you drunk?"

"Of course not!" The accusation snapped Quistis back to reality. "I got a message saying you needed to speak to me right away. What's happening at Garden?"

"If you had been available at the time you said you'd be, you would know by now. Garden is fine, but Cid needs to speak with you immediately. Something about the last update you sent him. He didn't seem very happy with it."

Quistis frowned, recalling the most recent portion of the curriculum she submitted. It dealt with the various methods of introduction, and she couldn't imagine what problem he could find with it. "Did he tell you anything?"

"Just to get a hold of you. He said he's going to be in his office early tomorrow, and that he would like to speak to you before you leave for the library." Xu sighed. "I don't know what you're doing over there, but I worry that you might be losing sight of your goal."

"I'm not. In fact, I can see it clearer than ever." The fire that had sparked inside her that evening began to burn brighter. Cid had taken something important away from her before, and she was not going to let him do it again. She set her jaw and leveled her glare at the camera. "Tell Cid to expect my call in the morning. I'm looking forward to discussing the matter with him."

"You _must_ be drunk," Xu muttered, but agreed to pass the message along. "Good luck, Quistis, and please, take care."


	6. Chapter 6

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

Quistis did not sleep well. She spent the rest of the evening pulling up every file she had sent Cid, going over each one line-by-line, taking notes on anything she thought the headmaster might take issue with and preparing an argument for its inclusion. Even as she lay in bed, she continued to run through the materials in her head, and she got up more than once to add to her notes. Somewhere amid this mess of frustration and self-doubt, she fell asleep.

She woke to her alarm, feeling as if she'd only drifted off minutes before. She gathered her notes, made sure she looked professional, and turned on her computer. She hesitated placing the call to Garden, and she decided at the last minute to send a message to Argider, explaining the situation and letting him know she might be late to the library. Then, her excuses exhausted, she took a deep breath and made the call.

Cid appeared in the communications window, frowning, his hands folded on his desk. "Good morning, Quistis," he said. "I am sorry I couldn't get in touch with you yesterday."

"Good morning, sir," Quistis replied, but she did not apologize for being unavailable.

"I wanted to speak to you regarding the portions of the curriculum you have been sending me. They are very well-written, and your research is impressive. However, the content seems to be deviating from the outline you submitted for my approval."

"Yes, it has. I drafted that outline based on the information I had available at the time. Namely, the extent of knowledge covered in the books I had borrowed from the library here. But in the process of conducting research for that outline, I have discovered much more information that I believe is invaluable to the development of blue mages at Garden."

"So you have. But did you not stop to consider whether all of that information might be too much for one course?" Cid picked up a stack of papers. The curriculum notes, Quistis assumed. "For example, this section here, 'The Historical and Cultural Context of Blue Magic.' While this information is very interesting indeed, it has no practical application in a blue mage's education. It makes no difference whether they know that people once assumed their power to be that of a god; their job is to use their skill to exterminate the enemy and complete missions."

"If you were dissatisfied with that section, why didn't you let me know before?"

"Because I had faith that you would correct yourself. But this last portion you submitted to me, all full of impractical applications and vague theories, is boring at best, confusing at worst. Blue mages at Balamb Garden only have a few ways of learning skills; they don't need to know any more, and they definitely don't need to waste valuable time and energy debating theories."

Quistis bit her lip, thankful that Cid couldn't see her clench her fists beneath the table. "It isn't a waste of time to understand how one's skill fits into society at large. This kind of information gives mages context, an anchor in the world around them, so they might not feel alone. Isn't one of Garden's goals to produce well-rounded citizens as well as properly-trained mercenaries?"

"Yes, it is," Cid admitted. "But knowing who said what about arcane knowledge is hardly relevant to becoming a functioning citizen. No one wants to hear about those things, perhaps not even the blue mages themselves."

"And you'd make that decision for them? If the mages don't want to hear it, let them tell me themselves."

"Tell you? Why would they —"

"Furthermore, you said once that you didn't want all of your students to become machines."

"When did I —"

"I overheard you say those words to Seifer after his final failed exam, before you put the blame of his failure on me. You seemed undecided on whether to punish him, because you seemed to admire his independence — his rebelliousness — even when it jeopardized the entire mission." Quistis smirked. "Or does that sentiment apply only to Seifer? Don't think I didn't see the favoritism —"

"That is enough!" Cid slammed his palms onto his desk, half-rising from his chair. "You dare to speak to me that way? You are treading a very dangerous line here, Trepe. I could call your little outburst insubordination. I could cut off funding for your little venture right now and order you on the next flight back to Balamb." He sat down and adjusted his glasses. "But I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you're stressed, maybe you're tired. You _were_ out until all hours last night, after all."

"I got in at 20:30!" Her arrival at the apartment was the most useless point to argue in this context, but Quistis felt that Cid saw it as a reason to question her industriousness, her character. Beneath the table, her hands began to shake, but she set her jaw and maintained her composure.

"No matter. This whole disagreement is far beside the point I originally hoped to make. I've taken issue with the content of your submissions for a more practical reason: without all of the resources you have at your fingertips, how is anyone expected to understand enough of this to actually teach it?"

"I've included a very detailed bibliography with each segment, as well as extensive footnotes. I can obtain copies of the relevant chapters and sections from textbooks and reports to submit to you for distribution to the prospective instructor."

"That assumes the instructor is willing to put in the extra work. Teaching a course, especially an introductory course, shouldn't require such extensive preparation."

"Because you would need to compensate them for the extra time they spent preparing, correct?"

Cid glared at her. "That's part of the reason. The other is, where would I find an instructor patient enough to go through the tomes of supplemental material you're threatening to send me?"

Quistis frowned, but when she realized she had an opening, she softened her expression. "You have one," she said.

"What?"

"I can teach the course. I can always reapply for my instructor's license, and I am very familiar with the information I'm including in the curriculum."

Cid snorted. "You? Have you already forgotten that I personally dismissed you from your original position?"

"But that was for lack of leadership on the battlefield, sir." The words tasted sour as she spoke them. "This course is strictly classroom-based."

"I can't stop you from reapplying for your license, but I cannot guarantee that Balamb Garden will have any position available for you. You have failed us once, Quistis, please don't do so again." He tapped the stack of papers in front of him. "I want to see a streamlined, beginner-friendly version of the most recent section of this curriculum at the time of your next scheduled progress report. Failure to provide the requested material will result in the immediate termination of your sabbatical. Have a good day, Miss Trepe."

Before Quistis could say anymore, Cid reached out with one stubby finger and disconnected the call.

"Dammit!" Quistis shouted, slamming her laptop closed. "Dammit, dammit, _dammit_!" She shoved a stack of books off the table, slammed her fist onto the tabletop. She covered her face and let out a long scream of frustration, punctuated by some choice curse words, then slumped back in her chair and sighed.

The doubts crept in, slowly and quietly. Cid was right, Quistis admitted, the material she'd gathered probably was too much for one course. But Garden wasn't going to incorporate it right away; she would've had time to edit it down, maybe even develop several courses from the information she'd accumulated, right there where Cid could immediately review things to his liking.

Maybe she'd gotten defensive, maybe she'd pushed too far. She was getting used to being independent, to pursuing her curiosity as far as it would take her. She'd forgotten how much power Cid still had over her life, and how much of that life she still owed to Garden.

She opened her computer and turned it on to make sure she hadn't damaged it. She picked up the books on the floor and fixed her hair by her reflection in the computer screen. She would have to tell Argider to cancel their plans for a research project, or, in a more charitable gesture, turn the project over to him. There was no way she would have time to devote to new research now. She closed her eyes against the sting of tears, gritting her teeth and forcing herself not to cry.

She walked to the lift station, defeated.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"Good morning," Retta chirped as Quistis walked into the library, only twenty minutes later than usual. "Thank you for your help yesterday."

"You're welcome." Quistis gave a half-hearted smile, ignoring Retta's inquisitive look as she made her way to the back. Argider looked up from his desk and grinned.

"Oh, Quistis, I hadn't expected you so early. When I saw your message, I assumed you wouldn't get here until the afternoon."

"The conversation with my boss didn't take as long as I thought it would."

"Boss? I don't think I've ever heard you refer to the headmaster like that before."

"He is my boss, isn't he? And what he says goes." Quistis sat down and opened her laptop.

"Is something the matter?" Argider asked. "You seem upset. Does this have anything to do with yesterday evening?"

"No."

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"

"I said it didn't have anything to do with last night," Quistis snapped. "Contrary to what you might've been told your whole life, the world doesn't revolve around you. There are plenty of other things a person can be upset about."

"Whoa. All right, then." Argider turned back to his computer.

"I'm sorry," Quistis groaned, rubbing her temples. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm just a little … preoccupied right now." She couldn't find the courage to tell him that the project he'd so eagerly anticipated the evening before was not going to happen.

"Don't worry about it. You're only human, after all." He brightened. "Hey, do you have a minute to come up to the lab with me? I want to get you familiarized with its operation before we put together the proposal for the project. I've scheduled a phone conference with Kiros and an Estharian army general for this afternoon."

"So soon?" Quistis rose and followed him, thankful for the relative privacy of the second floor, where she could explain why she had to abandon the project. Argider walked toward the lab, but did not open the door. Instead, he turned around, hands in his pockets, and looked at her.

"All right," he said, "what's going on? You're more than just preoccupied right now. You don't have to give me details, but I want to know if there's anything Retta or I can do to help."

Quistis avoided his eyes. "I … can't work on the project."

"What? Why not?"

Quistis told him about Cid's new demands. He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Now I know why you started calling him your 'boss,'" he said. "People like him love to give ridiculous orders, but I don't think they even understand what they're saying half the time. Is there any way you can work around it?"

"No. It's going to take up all my time. If I can't deliver a revised curriculum by the next time I'm scheduled to send in work, Cid will terminate my sabbatical."

Argider frowned. "That seems harsh. You've been working hard here. So what if you got a little carried away? His timetable is really screwed up." He sighed. "Haven't you ever considered leaving Garden?"

Quistis shook her head. The thought had really never crossed her mind.

Argider continued. "It makes no sense that someone like you – someone so bright, so strong, so _independent_ – should have to answer to someone whose biggest concern is how to make the most money off of child soldiers."

Quistis bristled. Rationally, she knew he was praising her, but right now it sounded like another criticism of how she lived her life. "It makes more sense than you realize," she said coldly. "I am indebted to Garden."

"Indebted?"

"Everything I have is because of them."

"Really? Wow, I guess if even _you_ couldn't resist their brainwashing, they must be pretty effective."

"It's the truth."

"Is it? What in the world did you do to end up at their mercy? How could you even consider going to them for help in the first place?"

"I didn't have a choice! I was given up!"

Argider stared at her, silent. Quistis turned away. A suite of memories, long suppressed by the use of Guardian Forces and only recently resurfaced, came to the fore once again. They flooded her mind and rushed into her mouth, bitter and vile, and she had no choice but to spit them out.

"My family was killed during the Second Sorceress War," she began in monotone. "I was sent to an orphanage and adopted out when I was about five years old. The couple that adopted me was one of means, and I think they chose me specifically because I fit their image of the perfect little girl. They wanted me to dance, to play the flute and the piano, to be quiet and polite and not speak unless I was spoken to. They hated that I liked to read, and that I had so many questions. They hated even more that I was no good at what they wanted me to be. So when I was ten, they decided they'd had enough. They took me to Garden. They gave me up.

"At Garden, I swore I'd be the perfect girl I couldn't be before, so that maybe they wouldn't give me up, too. I studied hard, I took the SeeD exam at my very first opportunity, and I passed. I became Garden's youngest instructor at seventeen. Then, a year later, I lost it all. One of my students went rogue during the field exam and took his classmates along. I was blamed for his actions, even though I had no way of monitoring him at the moment he made his decision. It was decided that such a disobedient student could only be the result of an incompetent instructor. As far as Garden was concerned, I'd failed them even more than my student had.

"And that's when they gave up on me, too."

Argider said nothing, and Quistis couldn't blame him. The whole story had just come tumbling out of her, and it was nothing anyone wanted to hear. She could not have known, when Irvine triggered her memories of the orphanage three years ago, just how deep her other suppressed memories ran, how painful and fresh their wounds would feel.

Some days, it was too much. Some days, she'd go into Squall's office and beg to be sent on a mission, any mission, just to have a chance to junction again and bury those memories, even for a little bit, to reclaim a moment's peace. Squall would always deny the request for dispatch, but in merciful solidarity, he would provide her with a document to procure a GF for "training purposes." He, too, understood the agony of too many memories resurfacing at once.

It was something that Argider could never understand. And maybe that was what hurt Quistis the most. She blinked back tears, determined not to cry in front of him. She set her jaw and glanced at him, noticing that he'd been watching her the whole time.

She waved the memories away and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I shouldn't have told you all this," she said. "What are you supposed to say about other people's problems, anyway?"

"I'm sorry," Argider said softly. "I'm so sorry about what you've been through. I'm sorry that you've had to bear so much pain. And I'm especially sorry that you feel that no one cares." He stepped closer to her, but did not reach out to touch her. "I can't see the future, so I can't say it'll get easier, I can't even say the worst is behind you. But I can say that the people who gave up on you are wrong."

Quistis' eyes widened at his response, letting loose the tears she'd been holding back.

"I can say with absolute certainty that there is so much more to you than what those people deemed a failure," Argider continued. "I've seen it. So, please, even if you can't forget the pain, don't let it define you anymore. Don't give those bastards the satisfaction of keeping you down."

Quistis was trembling now. She leaned against the window ledge and brought her hands to her mouth to try to stifle a sob. She didn't succeed, and once the first one was out, others followed, loud and painful, feeling as though they were being torn from her heart. Her legs weakened beneath her and she crumpled toward the floor, but Argider caught her arm and led her toward the lab. He unlocked the door and turned on the lights, then helped her onto one of the high stools. She tried to stop crying, ashamed of how she must look, but the sobs found their way out. Argider sat quietly beside her, resting a reassuring hand on her back, as she finally released years of frustration and hurt.

When she was spent, her face a swollen mess, she laid her head on the table in front of her and mumbled an apology.

"There's no need to apologize," Argider said. "You've obviously been under a lot of stress, and what happened this morning must've been the last straw. Do you need me to get you anything? Tissues, water?"

"No, thank you." Quistis raised her head. "I'll go clean myself up."

Staring at her reflection in the restroom mirror, her features still puffy and red even after multiple splashes of cold water, Quistis berated herself for her outsized reaction. She wasn't usually given to tears; she preferred to keep her strongest feelings inside, where they could be controlled, hidden away. And now she'd not only blurted out her pathetic story to Argider, but she'd also practically dissolved right in front of him. She wondered how he must see her now - she was definitely not the strong, mature, curiosity-driven researcher he'd thought she was. Beneath that façade, she was only a weak, unstable little girl, one so desperate for kindness that she fell apart at the slightest hint of it.

When she returned to the laboratory, she noticed that Argider hadn't moved from his seat, and now he stared into the distance, apparently lost in thought. He turned toward her as she entered and asked whether she would like to take the rest of the day off. Quistis thought about her silent apartment, the books stacked haphazardly on her table, the resentment of this morning's discussion still hanging in the air, and declined.

"In that case," he said. "Feel free to rest here for a while. I've got to head back downstairs to get some work done, and prepare for the conference call."

"Oh. So the project is still on, then?" Quistis asked. In her emotional distress, she'd forgotten to make the magnanimous gesture of turning the project over to him. Luckily for her, he was self-centered enough to take it for himself.

"Of course."

She tried to smile. "Good luck with it. I hope the information you find is useful."

"What are you saying?" He frowned. "I'm keeping the conference appointment so that _you_ can go ahead with the project."

"I told you, it's impossible."

"Haven't I mentioned something to you about giving up too easily?"

"Yes, that I do it."

"Exactly. There might be a way to salvage the project _and_ meet your boss' demands. Let me see if I can't figure something out." He rose and walked to the door. "Just give me until the end of the day. Then, if there's no solution in sight, we can talk about abandoning the project."

Quistis watched the door shut behind him. She admired his confidence, even if it was ridiculous and ill-placed. In the cool quiet of the laboratory, her agitation faded away, and tiredness began to overtake her. A short nap didn't seem like a bad idea. She rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes.

Just for a few minutes …

She woke to someone shaking her shoulder, and opened her eyes to Retta's smiling face.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Retta teased. "You're going to miss lunch, and that won't do!" She placed a takeout container, still steaming, on the table in front of Quistis. "This might not be the ideal place to eat," she continued, wiping the table with her finger to check for dust and residue, "but I don't think we'll end up getting poisoned."

Still feeling as if her head was stuffed with cotton, Quistis sat up and accepted a plastic fork from Retta.

"Argider told me what happened with your boss," Retta said, opening her own container. "So, if I understand him correctly, your boss wants you to revise your curriculum within the next two weeks?"

Quistis nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. "It's just the latest segment right now," she said. "But I'm sure he'll want me to go back and do the same with the others. He said they were too detailed for an introductory course, for the prospective instructor, specifically."

"Ah, yes, introductory courses. I had to develop a few of those when I taught at the university. Sometimes, I think they're the hardest to plan. You're well-versed in the material, so you can't always see where the students are coming from. There's a lot of hand-holding involved."

"Exactly!"

Retta grinned. "You know what helped me? I'd think of my intro students as baby birds. They've hatched, and they're demanding, but you can't just boot them from the nest right away. You've got to wait until they've grown their feathers, learned how to use their wings. It's your job to help them do that."

"So, basically, you become a mother bird?"

"That's a perfect analogy. As the instructor, you've taken in plenty of new information, but before any of your knowledge can help your students, you have to break it down, then regurgitate it in easily digestible bits."

Quistis wrinkled her nose and laughed. "Oh my goodness, that's a vivid analogy!"

"But it fits, no?" The two ate in silence for a while. "Argider also mentioned that you are considering abandoning your research project."

"Revising the curriculum will take all my time." Quistis set down her food. "I don't even know where to start."

"That's because you're too deep into the research." Retta turned to face Quistis directly. "How would you like a little help?"

"Help?"

"I'd be happy to help you. I know next to nothing about the intricacies of blue magic, so I'm pretty much on the same level as an intro student. However, I have experience developing curricula, so I can offer some pointers in course structure as well. What do you say?"

"I wouldn't want to burden you with my problems."

"It's no burden at all. Just give me a copy of the curriculum as it stands now. I can read it during lulls in my work, and in the evenings at home. I'll make notes and then I'll consult you, and you can adjust the course accordingly." Retta shrugged. "That way, you can use your time here to work on your research with Argider."

Quistis looked down and picked at her food, dangerously close to tears again. "I can't ask you to do that," she said. "It's _my_ job."

"I'm not going to rewrite the thing for you. I'll just point you in the right direction. Think of me as an editor. Any author worth their ink has one, and no one argues that the finished product isn't still theirs."

"As long as you're all right with it," Quistis said, "I'd appreciate your help. Thank you, Retta."

"You're very welcome. Now, finish your food before it gets cold."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The next week and a half flew past. Argider received permission to go ahead with the research project, and on an expedited schedule to fit into the remainder of Quistis' sabbatical. The military, Argider said, was all too happy to receive new and possibly revolutionary information on blue mage training, especially when it came at no expense to them, since the project was Quistis' personal undertaking. Their only condition was that Quistis submit a proposal by the end of the following week.

So, Quistis found herself switching between two objectives. During the day, while Retta read and critiqued Quistis' curriculum in between her normal library duties, Quistis familiarized herself with the laboratory equipment and procedures, and pored over manuscript style manuals to prepare her proposal. At night, she looked over Retta's notes and made the necessary adjustments to her curriculum. She submitted both the revised curriculum and the proposal on the same morning.

Cid's reply came the next day, thanking her for the revisions, and, predictably, requesting that she revise the previous two sections of the curriculum, as well, albeit on a more forgiving schedule. Keeping Retta's advice in mind, Quistis decided to revise these herself; meanwhile, for fear of falling into the same predicament again, she used her idle time at the library to research and begin drafting the final section of her curriculum.

She told herself there was nothing wrong with the pace at which she worked, even as she fought to stay awake and the words blurred in front of her. She removed her glasses and pressed her palms against her tired eyes.

"You know, it's okay to take a break," Argider said, setting aside the paperwork he was going through.

"No, it's not," Quistis answered, resuming her task, flipping through books and furiously scribbling down notes. "There's work to do. Besides, I was quite used to working at this pace until a few years ago." She jotted down a phrase on her notepad and tore off the sheet. "Do you know where I might find items pertaining to this?"

Argider walked over and took the paper from her, but didn't move toward the shelves or his computer. "You're going to burn yourself out."

"I'm not. I admit, it was irresponsible of me to take on another large project before finishing the first, but I'll be okay. I'm responsible for my irresponsibility."

"I'm slightly disturbed that I actually understood that. Nevertheless, perhaps you should set this aside for a while and work on preparations in the lab, instead."

"What for? I've already learned how the necessary equipment works, how to run the simulator and prepare the subjects for testing. What other reason do I have to go there at the moment?"

"To get away from this." He pulled the book out from under her nose.

"Hey!" She stood up and tried to take it back, but he held it just out of her reach.

"Listen, I know you have to meet your obligations to Garden. But taking a day or two away from them won't hurt. I don't want you to be an overworked wreck by the time you begin the experiment."

"I'm _fine_. I know my limits."

"You sound like a drunkard."

Quistis scowled at him, trying to find a suitable retort. But his statement made a strange kind of sense. "Maybe I am, in a way," she conceded. "Productivity _is_ addictive."

"Then it's my duty as your friend to intervene."

"Friend?"

"Fine, advisor, colleague, whatever." Quistis saw one corner of his mouth turn up. He was enjoying this! Maybe there was an amusing element to it, and it certainly had woken her up, but she had her pride. She couldn't back down.

She took a step toward him and held out her hand. "The book, please."

"You really _are_ serious about running yourself into the ground."

"The book."

"You're very stubborn. Has anyone ever told you that?"

It was her turn to smile. She tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. "I prefer the term 'tenacious,'" she said. "And yes, I've been told that it's one of my better qualities."

"Really? By whom?"

"Give me the book."

"Argider, this package ca – " Retta walked through the shelves, carrying a large envelope, but stopped short when she saw Quistis and Argider standing there grinning at one another. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt anything," she said in a sly tone.

"No, I'm glad you're here, Retta," said Argider, not taking his eyes off Quistis. "Perhaps you can talk some sense into Ms. Trepe." He explained what their exchange had been about.

"I think Quistis' approach is a very prudent one," she said.

"Ha!" said Quistis. She snatched the book from Argider's hand, then sat down again.

"But Argider has a point," Retta continued. "You have to consider your well-being. What good is it to work so hard if you become too ill to finish anything?"

"Mm-hmm," Quistis murmured, pretending to be absorbed in what she was reading. She could practically _feel_ Argider smirking at her.

"Anyway, before I got roped into playing mediator," said Retta, "I came back here to give you this. The courier just brought it. It's from the Department of the Military, so it's either the contract you've been waiting for, or orders for Argider to reenlist."

"Well, I do cut a dashing figure in a uniform," Argider quipped, taking the envelope from Retta and opening it. He glanced over the cover letter, then sat down beside Quistis and began reading the contract aloud, clarifying jargon as he encountered it. When he finished, he slid it over to her.

"There you have it," he said. "They've approved your proposal, and are able to supply the test subjects at the beginning of next week, for a period of two weeks, four days a week. What do you say?"

Quistis stared at him, then at the contract. She went over it page by page, biting her lip to stifle the giggle that threatened to come out, drawn forth by the thrill of accomplishment. They'd approved her proposal. The project was really going to happen. She reached for a pen and signed on the line above her name.

"It sounds good to me," she said, handing the pen to Argider so that he could add his own signature, as supervising party. Then, he turned to her and extended his hand.

"Congratulations," he said. "You're now officially a scientist."

Quistis thanked him and shook his hand. Retta, who'd been watching in silence, now gushed forth congratulations for Quistis.

Quistis thanked Retta, then flipped back through the contract. "Twenty mages," she said with a sigh. "That'll require a lot of processed items."

"Don't tell me you're getting intimidated," Argider said.

She looked him straight in the eyes. "Never."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

When Quistis entered the library on the first day of the experiments, Retta looked up from the book she was processing for a patron and grinned. "Ah, the esteemed researcher arrives," she said, then gestured toward the back of the building. "Your subjects await."

"Already?" Quistis asked, excusing herself to the patron.

"Don't worry. Argider got here a little while ago and corralled them into the laboratory."

Quistis thanked Retta and hurried to the stairs, hearing Retta explain herself to the patron as she did so.

Argider was leaning against a table, arms crossed, having a lively conversation with the other blue mages in the laboratory when Quistis arrived. He smiled at her and straightened.

"And here she is," he said. "Ms. Quistis Trepe, the lead researcher on this project. She'll be administering the various skill-bearing items to you and putting you all through your paces. Please cooperate with her to your fullest extent."

As a unit, the twenty blue mages assembled in the laboratory stood and saluted. Quistis raised her eyebrows and glanced at Argider, but he shrugged and shook his head to indicate that this was not his idea. Quistis turned back to the mages.

"Good morning," she said. The mages stood at ease. "I apologize for being a few minutes late. Perhaps Argider has already explained the scope and purpose of this experiment to you?"

"Nope," Argider said. "You're the lead researcher. It's your show from here on. I'm just here in a supervisory capacity, to make sure nothing gets blown up, and –" he hiked an eyebrow – "to make sure none of these fine young men – or women – get any ideas." A nervous titter rippled through the group.

Quistis took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, trying to envision herself at the front of a Garden classroom once again. "Well, in that case, allow me to explain. As I conducted research for a separate project, it came to my attention that there was no readily available information comparing the efficacy of various methods of introduction of skill-bearing items across all known blue magic skills. As far as I could find, the experiments detailed in the texts available to me simply tested whether one particular method of introduction worked for each individual test subject. Since all of you are Estharian, I assume that the only method of introduction you have been offered has been the ingestion of distillates, am I correct?"

The mages nodded.

"And in some cases, those distillates did not teach you the corresponding skill, also correct?"

They nodded again.

"The purpose of this experiment is to fill in the gaps in your skill sets via alternative methods of introduction." She nodded to Argider, who handed a stack of papers to the mage in the far corner and instructed him to take one and pass on the others. "You are now receiving a short survey listing the twenty most common blue magic skills. Please indicate which skills you have learned, which you failed to absorb through a distillate, and which you have yet to attempt to learn. This will help me sort you into appropriate groups, and help the experiment to proceed smoothly."

From the completed surveys, Quistis began sorting the mages into groups based on the skills they hadn't learned, being mindful to not schedule groups with any shared members immediately before or after one another, to give the mages time to recuperate between tests. She prepared the necessary items for consumption and tried to remain professional and impassive as she watched groups of highly-trained soldiers grimace and gag over the mixtures she administered. Their comrades, however, were not so gracious, openly laughing and jeering at them. Until it was their turn.

When it came time for testing, Argider assumed a post just outside the door to the testing chamber, from where he could alternately observe the ongoing process and keep a watchful eye on the mages remaining in the lab. Quistis sat at the control panel, adjusting the conditions within the simulator and monitoring the subjects' vital signs. She thanked the subjects after the test, logged the results, and retrieved the printouts detailing their responses to the simulated battle and the use of their newly-acquired skills.

After she had tested a few groups, Quistis settled into a comfortable rhythm. Outside of several phone calls placed sporadically from the front desk to the laboratory by Retta — messages and deliveries for Argider, her daily announcement that she was leaving and closing the library at the end of her shift – the world outside the laboratory seemed to drop away. After several days, Quistis figured out the number of tests she could fit into the daily schedule, and so began to select several groups a day and dismiss the remaining mages until their turns came. The process became smoother and more efficient, and the results were encouraging.

At the beginning of the second week, however, Quistis noticed calls coming through to the laboratory accompanied by a unique pattern of ringing that she recognized as that from Odine Laboratories. The conversations were always short once Argider answered, bordering on pointless, but the calls increased in frequency each day. Halfway through the week, they had become so disruptive that Argider simply disconnected the laboratory telephone for the rest of the afternoon.

"They must've caught wind of something going on over here," Argider said as he and Quistis straightened the stools at the tables after the mages had left, "and it burns them up that they're not in on it."

"Do you think we should have consulted them before beginning this project?" Quistis asked.

"Hell, no. Let them stew in their curiosity for a while." He laughed. "Like I mentioned to you before, all major research projects in Esthar eventually attract their notice. So, in a way, I'd say it's pretty flattering that your project has caught their attention." He became serious. "But you're still under no obligation to speak with them. You're running this experiment for the Estharian government; if they want to know what's happening here, they can wait to read the report."

Quistis nodded, but she was no longer as averse to the concept of Odine Laboratories as she had been. During her time in Esthar, she had begun to understand the intricacies of the country's structure, the sometimes contradictory alliances between its various sectors, and the "affiliation by necessity" that Argider had spoken of months earlier. She was beginning to more sharply differentiate between Dr. Odine's personal work and the work carried out under his patronage.

Still, she appreciated Argider's protectiveness, particularly as it represented a safe place to which to retreat should she eventually decide to directly interact with O. Labs and find herself in over her head. She told him as much and he chuckled.

"I do what I can," he said. "There aren't a lot of things a regular guy can do to help a SeeD woman. You all are pretty self-reliant. Since you don't really need a knight in shining armor, I'm forced to convey my gallantry through smaller gestures."

"Gallantry?"

"Alas," Argider said, placing a hand over his heart and adopting a dramatic tone, "my gestures are so small as to pass beneath the good lady's notice! Did you not see how I have scaled the tallest stepladders, battled the fearsome dust demons, and braved the caprices of the archive shelves, all so that you could have what you need?" He grinned at her.

Quistis laughed. "Oh my gosh," she said. "I once thought it might be too harsh to refer to you as a nerd, but now I think it might be just right!"

"Of course," he said, walking to her, still in character, "it would be far easier to demonstrate my valor by providing what the lady wants. But, unfortunately, she is silent on the matter." He looked down into her face, his smile grown soft. "So, what doth the damsel desire, that I might bring to her posthaste?"

Quistis felt the heat rush into her face, her heart hammering in her chest. _What did she want?_ She stared at him, then let her gaze wander from his face down his torso, before turning away. She _wanted_ to feel his arms around her, to feel his hands on her waist, wanted to know whether his lips were soft or had been roughened by the sun ...

She shook away the thoughts and felt her blush deepen. "Nothing she can't get for herself," she lied.

"Heh. Fair enough, I suppose." Argider went back to straightening the laboratory furniture. "But now that I think about it, I don't believe I've ever heard you ask for anything you wanted, not even an early lunch break. Why is that?"

"I don't like bothering others," Quistis said. "Like I said, if I want something, I'll get it myself. If I have to ask someone for it, then it probably was unnecessary to begin with."

"Interesting. Just remember, people aren't mind-readers."

"I know that. And they're also not resources for me to drain." She straightened the last stool, then looked up. "Well," she said brightly, "only two more days of testing to go. I'll admit, it'll feel strange not having those mages milling about."

"And tedious taking over the front desk duties again," Argider added with a frown. "It was far more exciting up here."

Quistis smiled, and the two of them segued into more mundane topics of conversation, locking away the tension and awkwardness behind the laboratory door when they were finished for the night.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The lone female mage in the final group of subjects removed the electrodes from her temples and grinned at Quistis.

"I'd like to thank you, Ms. Trepe," she said, "for running this experiment. Not only do I now have several new skills at my disposal, but I also understand how my powers work quite a bit better than I did before."

"I'm very glad that this was a positive experience for you," Quistis replied, "but I should be thanking _you_ – all of you – for participating, especially on such short notice."

"Eh, it was no problem," one of the other mages said. "Spend a few weeks as a lab rat, or march around, follow orders and clean the mess hall? This was the easier, and more interesting, choice, by far."

The rest of the group murmured in agreement, then saluted as they exited the testing chamber and followed Argider to the exit. By the time Argider returned from locking the library doors, Quistis was already perched on a lab stool, going over the results of the tests. Having transferred the data to her computer, she slid it aside and focused on the printouts, letting it fall dormant.

Argider began straightening the stools and wiping down the tables. "Forging straight ahead, huh?" he asked her.

"Well, I figured that since we finished with the tests a couple hours early tonight, I should try to get a head start on interpreting the data." She looked at a printout and frowned.

Argider walked over. "Is something wrong?"

"Subject 17. He is the only one for whom both the distillate and the processed item failed. I ran him through the simulator with the rest of his group, though, just to see if the monitors might give me any clues as to why the skill didn't take. But everything looks normal."

"An outlier. There's one in every group, it seems."

Quistis glanced at him. "So what do I do with this data?"

"We can always call the subject in for another round of tests, if that would make you feel better," he said. "Alternatively, we could drop it altogether, or better yet, we can use it as a launching point for another study. At any rate, staring at the data all night isn't going to make it fit in with the others."

"Yes, you're right." Quistis sighed and took off her glasses. "I just need to make sure I don't miss anything. I've got one shot at this before I have to go back to Garden, and I need to know that I'm basing my conclusions on the best evidence I could gather."

"I know. And you're doing amazing right now."

She turned to face him. The stool on which she sat was high enough that her eyes were level with his chin. She looked up and smirked. "I don't care for your patronizing."

"I'm not patronizing you. I'm telling the truth. Within what, a month and a half, you've gone from a researcher on sabbatical to running your own experiment. You took the crash course I gave you in laboratory operation and turned it into a study that could revolutionize the way we approach and train blue mages."

"I didn't do it alone. You helped me."

"Not as much as you think. You really need to start taking credit for what you do. It's all right to be proud of your work, and it's all right to want recognition." He rested his hand on the table and leaned toward her, dropping his voice. "And it's more than okay to ask for what you want."

She looked at him, remembering their conversation from a few nights before, but still unsure whether the subtext she detected in his last sentence was intentional, or a result of her imagination running wild. Argider revealed nothing, but simply smiled at her, his face close enough to hers that she could see flecks of gold in his dark irises. The familiar sensations began stirring within her once again, the fluttering in her chest, the warmth that spread outward from her heart, each feeling growing stronger with every heartbeat, ultimately coalescing into something she could only describe as desire.

She reached out tentatively and touched his face, running her hand along the sharp angle of his jaw, enjoying the warmth of his skin beneath her palm. He didn't pull away, and that was the only invitation she needed. She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his.

Hers was a clumsy attempt, owing to inexperience, but it didn't seem to matter to him. He reciprocated, gently, his hand cupping her face, fingertips sliding into her hair. When they parted, Quistis shivered, the air around her suddenly cold in comparison to the flame the kiss had kindled inside her, a flame that refused to cool or diminish.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't apologize." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Are you all right?"

Quistis was silent for a moment, then shook her head. "I want more," she said, her final word muffled as she kissed him again. He obliged her with an energy that triggered in her a hunger she hadn't even known she possessed. She matched his intensity, then surpassed it, surprised when she heard a soft moan escape her. Argider broke away to trail kisses along her jaw, and she couldn't suppress a giggle when his lips reached her neck. She felt his lips stretch into a smile, but he did not abandon his path, setting off a series of sparks that electrified Quistis to her core. He planted kisses along her collarbone, and when he reached the base of her throat, he briefly flicked his tongue against the small depression there. Quistis gasped and shuddered, pulling him closer, her fingers clenching in his hair. He laughed against her skin, and she thrilled at the vibrations his voice sent through her body. His lips skimmed the length of her throat to find her mouth once more, but as his fingers slid up the nape of her neck, the telephone rang, startling them both.

The pattern of the ringing indicated the call was coming from Odine Laboratories. Again. "Dammit," Argider growled, disentangling his fingers from her hair. "I'm so sorry. I'll get rid of them as quickly as possible."

Quistis nodded, her voice having abandoned her. She watched him lift the receiver, his back to her, and sighed. Her body burned and trembled, and a faint, delicious ache overtook her most sensitive areas. She pressed her hands onto the table in front of her, trying to steady them, and looked around, her gaze coming to rest on her dormant computer.

The face Quistis saw reflected in its darkened screen was one she couldn't recognize as her own. Its cheeks were flushed, its lips full and bright. The eyes were heavy-lidded and dreamy, and sections of hair had escaped their proper places and draped over the shoulders. Quistis reached out to touch this unfamiliar reflection, but when her fingers brushed the screen, the computer flashed back to life, revealing the data she'd been processing. She blinked as reality rushed in, carrying on its back heavy doses of guilt and regret.

What was she doing? _What the hell was she doing?_

This kind of behavior wasn't like her at all. It was unprofessional and, she admitted, reeked of desperation. How had things gotten so out of control? What might have happened had the interruption not occurred? She hurriedly fixed her hair and straightened her clothes, then packed away her laptop and other materials and shrugged on her jacket. She had to leave _now_.

Argider, meanwhile, finished up his phone call and turned to her with a smile that faded as he registered the meaning of her appearance.

"I need to apologize," Quistis said before he could speak. "What I did was completely unprofessional."

"If that's the case, then so was my response," he said, "and I should apologize as well. But I really don't consider it a monumental transgression if both of us simply accepted what the other offered. Unless I misinterpreted the situation?"

"No, you were right. But the blame is all mine. I started it." She frowned. "I just feel so stupid. I'm here to work, not to –" She waved her hand, unable to even verbalize what had happened.

"And you _have_ been working, hard, almost nonstop, since you arrived. So maybe you had a lapse in judgment. I'm not going to hold it against you."

"I appreciate that."

"But please, don't take all the blame. I would've reacted far differently if I hadn't wanted any part of it." He grinned and Quistis silently cursed as the flame inside her roared to life again. "The past few months working with you have been amazing," Argider continued. "You're smart, you're dedicated, and your insight has opened up a new branch of research. You're straightforward and articulate and — if you'll forgive me for being shallow — incredibly attractive."

"I don't believe you're being particularly rational right now."

"Maybe not, but I mean what I said. I really like you, and I consider myself very fortunate for having met you." As his words hung in silence for several moments, his smile transformed into a wince. "But maybe I misread the implications of what happened."

"No, you didn't. I feel the same way about you. The kindness you've shown me, the confidence you have in my abilities even when I doubt myself – no one's given me that before. And that's why I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if the nature of our relationship changes, those things will, too."

"No, they won't. Because they're the foundation for everything else."

Quistis sighed. "I want to believe you, but right now I'm too confused to make that decision. And this kind of uncertainty is the last thing I need when I have the project to complete." She looked in his eyes. "Please understand. Under different circumstances, maybe if the project was already finished, I might not feel so bad. But until then, I can't let my 'lapses in judgment,' as you call them, interfere with my work."

He nodded, serious. "I understand. But it's impossible to ignore what happened. So, what do we do now?"

"I was hoping you'd have the answer." Quistis shifted the weight of her bag across her shoulders. "But maybe … maybe it might be best if I took tomorrow off … to give us both a few days to cool down and think this through rationally."

"You're probably right." He leaned against the counter and rubbed his eyes. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You're not going to use this as an excuse to let the project die. You've worked far too hard for this."

Quistis smiled. "I promise," she said. "I promise I will be back here at the beginning of next week, and I will see this through, and I promise that somehow we'll figure out whatever in the world is happening between us, too." She nodded farewell and quickly walked out of the laboratory.

As she exited the library, however, the cold night air restored some of her senses, and she realized with a sinking feeling that her last promise might be impossible to keep.


	7. Chapter 7

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

Quistis awoke on the couch in her apartment, still wearing her work clothes. She sat up and shook her head, then looked at the clock. It was just after five in the morning. She groaned and buried her face in her hands as the memories of the previous evening came rushing back.

How quickly everything had changed! One minute, she'd felt relieved that the experiments had finished, and eager to interpret the data and begin her report; the next, it seemed, she was walking toward the lift station, berating herself for giving in to her baser instincts. She couldn't deny that there had been some very pleasurable moments in between, but at what cost had she indulged them?

At the cost of her professionalism, to be sure. Her reputation. Her credibility, most definitely ...

She was angry, and she wanted desperately to direct that anger outward — toward Argider, specifically, for being so charming, so inviting, so _responsive_ — but she recognized her role in the whole matter. If she had told him early on that she wasn't interested, she was confident he would have backed off. But she _was_ interested, and had been so since nearly the beginning, and she'd followed her attraction, her curiosity, her desire straight into this awkward situation.

She sighed and rose from the couch. She'd been so fatigued by the turn of events last night that she'd fallen asleep almost as soon as she sat down. Now, she gathered her belongings from where she'd tossed them onto the floor, changed into more comfortable clothes, and powered on her computer. The screen still showed the data she'd been processing before the incident in the laboratory, a reminder that, despite the turmoil in her heart, nothing else had changed at all. She collected her notes and the stack of printouts from the battle simulator and settled in.

There was work to do.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

When she next looked at the clock, it was nearly half past ten. She had interpreted and logged all of the statistics, identified patterns and outliers, and created a rough outline for her report. She'd referenced the style manuals she'd borrowed from the library and began drafting the introductory segment. She was both satisfied with her work and tired of it, but she couldn't rest. Every time she let her mind wander from the subject at hand, it immediately traveled back to the evening before.

When she could no longer differentiate between the statistical models before her, however, she reluctantly set her work aside. She opened the blinds across her balcony door and looked out onto a gray, drizzly day. People hurried along the skyways beneath colorful umbrellas, or bundled in waterproof jackets. She opened the door and breathed in the scent of rain, shivering as a cold gust blew in from the north. Even the weather was restless today. It seemed everywhere she turned, she saw a reflection of her tumultuous thoughts.

Standing in the kitchen and nibbling on a piece of dry toast, Quistis tried to focus on something pleasant, preferably unrelated to her sabbatical at all. She looked toward the corner of the counter, and the yellow gingham cover of Selphie and Rinoa's cookbook caught her eye. She flipped through its pages, smiling at the photographs of completed recipes, and found the perfect diversion. Preparing a meal would keep both her mind and her hands busy, and provide her with a practical, tangible result. She hoped.

She chose a hearty-looking dish whose recipe did not seem too complicated, and began to jot down a list of ingredients. Then, she put on her jacket and grabbed her purse, and headed toward the nearest market.

There, she looked at the food with a newfound appreciation, studying the colors and textures and smells of the products before her, letting these details fill her mind and sweep aside all of the embarrassment, worry, and stress that had plagued her, if only for a few moments. Her thoughts did return to her projects – and to Argider – on her walk back to the apartment, and she indulged her confusion to the rhythm of the raindrops against her hood, but once inside, she concentrated on the task at hand.

Chopping vegetables, measuring ingredients, timing the cooking process to the second – she found the entire pursuit to be strangely comforting. With everything under careful control, she felt her mind and her emotions stabilize, and for the first time since the previous evening, she could breathe easily.

The finished product looked nothing like the picture in the cookbook. Disappointed, Quistis nonetheless ventured a taste, and found that what the dish lacked in aesthetic quality, it more than made up for in flavor. She served herself a generous portion, then sat at the table to enjoy her late lunch and watch the clouds split and regroup over the city.

As she finished, she congratulated herself, then wondered how surprised Argider would be to discover that she could prepare something other than processed skill-bearing items. She set down her fork and frowned when she realized what was happening. The dish she'd prepared had been a small triumph for her, and the first person she'd thought of sharing her accomplishment with hadn't been either of the ladies who'd assembled the cookbook for her, but Argider. He was the first person who came to mind in a lot of situations lately, and she now felt doubly foolish for having run away the night before.

Perhaps she had been remembering the wrong parts of the evening all along; before the kiss and after, he'd said so many kind things to her. Since she'd begun working with him, he'd only made her feel better about herself, supporting her at every turn, lifting her spirits and her confidence when she felt overwhelmed.

And how had she repaid him? By doubting him, by accusing him of being irrational, by running away.

As difficult as Quistis found it to trust others, it was even harder to trust her own judgment. She'd been wrong before, and it had hurt very badly. There was a chance, however small, that Argider was being insincere, a chance that she was only courting pain. But if she didn't take that risk, she might lose him for good, and that outcome would be beyond painful. It would be intolerable.

Waiting out the weekend was not going to work.

But waiting out Retta's shift would have to.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The signs on the shops and restaurants glowed and reflected off of the wet pavement. Quistis walked through the puddles, grateful for the rain and the excuse it provided to wear her hood, for the anonymity the hood provided, should Retta still be in the neighborhood. When she reached the library, she peered through the doors and saw Argider sitting at the front desk, leaning back in his chair and reading a book that looked suspiciously like a paperback novel. Quistis removed her hood and tried to shed the excess water from her jacket in the vestibule, and when she triggered the second set of automatic doors, Argider looked up.

His eyes widened and he sat up straight, setting down his book. "Quistis," he said, "I didn't expect to see you today. Is everything all right?"

Quistis watched him rise and walk around the desk to meet her, and the eloquent preamble she'd rehearsed slipped away. "I don't need the weekend to cool off, and I don't need time to think things over," she said. "Because there's nothing _to_ think over. What happened last night has preoccupied me all day, and I know the only way to fix that is to talk about it, and the only person I need to talk to is you.

"I'm sorry – not for what I did, but for how I reacted. I was scared. Up until last night, it had all been just a concept, a thrilling daydream. But then it became very real, very quickly. And … I guess I just didn't know how to handle it. I still don't, truthfully. I'm not used to affection; I don't know how to give it, and apparently, I'm terrible at receiving it graciously. I made excuses – professional integrity, the need to focus on the project – to extricate myself from an unfamiliar situation that seemed to be slipping out of my control. But avoiding it, avoiding _you_ , has been more distracting than anything else."

She finally paused, her breath coming quick, her throat burning with restrained emotion. Argider looked at her with a mixture of concern and relief, then pulled her into an embrace, heedless of any patrons that might enter, of what passersby might glimpse from the street, of the moisture soaking into his shirt from the raindrops that remained on her jacket. She returned the gesture, holding him tightly, inhaling the scent of his cologne and listening to his heartbeat.

"Oh, Quistis," he sighed, stroking her hair. "I've been out of sorts today, too, thinking about it. I kept replaying it in my head, wondering whether I did something wrong, whether I misread your intent, afraid I might have driven you away. That's the last thing I wanted to do."

"You did nothing wrong. I instigated it. I wanted more, and I still do. And that's what terrifies me." She leaned back to look up at him. "What am I becoming? Just another silly woman in thrall to her emotions? I've followed a strong feeling before, and it only led to disappointment and hurt. I thought I'd learned my lesson, but I've done it again, and this time I've also squandered any professional respect I might have earn–"

She stopped talking when he pressed a finger to her lips. "What are you saying?" he said. "You haven't squandered anything. Do you honestly believe I think less of you in a professional capacity because of what's developed between us?"

She shrugged, and he moved his hands to her shoulders, holding her a few inches away from him and looking into her eyes.

"Like I told you last night –"

"When you agreed you weren't being rational –"

"I meant every word I said last night, and I mean them even more now. I like _all_ of you, from your intelligence and your competence right down to your stubbornness. Only a fool would think to discard everything he already admired about you just because he discovered something new. You are not 'silly,' and you're certainly not 'in thrall' to your emotions; you're a human being with real feelings. I've really appreciated your honesty with me right now, so please don't start lying to yourself."

"I'm not normal," she said, "and you can probably figure out why. All of this is unfamiliar territory to me, and, if I _am_ being honest, it's overwhelming."

"It doesn't have to be. Maybe what happened in the lab was too much, too soon. We can always move more slowly. I just like being with you, in whatever way you're comfortable with at the moment."

Quistis smiled. "Thank you. I'm quite fond of your company, myself. But are you sure slowing down won't be a problem?"

"Very sure." He grinned mischievously. "Besides, it gives something to look forward to."

She chuckled and looked down, her eyes widening when she saw the large wet spots left on his shirt from the rain that was still on her jacket when he'd hugged her. "Oh no, your shirt!"

Argider looked at his shirt, then shrugged. "It'll dry," he said. "Or perhaps I should run outside for a bit to make everything uniform?"

"Now you're being silly."

"Maybe. And you look like you're feeling better."

"I am. I'm glad I decided to speak with you. I don't know how I would've passed the weekend with all that running through my brain."

"Same here." He rubbed her arms lightly. "You're staying, right?" When Quistis nodded and began removing her jacket, Argider took a chair from the nearest table and moved it behind the front desk. "Come on, then. We can raid Retta's chocolate stash."

By the time Quistis sat down, Argider had heaped two handfuls of foil-wrapped candies onto the desk. He glanced at her. "Don't look at me like that," he said. "I'll replace them. I'm not a monster."

"You'd better," Quistis said, smiling. "It's not wise to get between somebody and their chocolate. It could even be dangerous." She unwrapped a piece and popped it in her mouth, letting it melt and carry her tension away with it. The resolution of the confusion of the past twenty-four hours only intensified her feelings for Argider. With the knowledge that he cared for her as a complete person no matter the nature of their interactions, her world began to stabilize. She felt safe with him, knowing that whatever she gave him of herself, he would protect, and she silently vowed to do the same for him.

As the last of the chocolate melted away, she glanced at the book Argider had been reading, then reached over and picked it up.

"What's this? _The Second Treason: Book Three of the Midwinter King Saga_." She turned it over and read the summary on the back cover. "So, I assume this is where you picked up your archaic seduction techniques," she said.

"Seduction?" Argider feigned innocence.

"What else do you call what you were trying to do the other night? Gallantry this, 'lady' that. 'What doth the lady desire?'"

"Damsel."

"What?"

"It's 'what doth the damsel desire?' The alliteration's important. It's very disarming." He smiled at her and reclaimed the novel.

"Is it, now?"

"Hey, it worked in the book! Extremely well, I might add."

Quistis started laughing, and Argider joined her. "I wouldn't have guessed you read books like this," she said.

"I go through enough reference books and technical papers for work," he said. "In my spare time, I like to read something a little less challenging, something fun. You read for pleasure, too, don't you?"

"I do."

"So, what kind of books do you read?"

Quistis unwrapped another chocolate. "Oh, whatever's available," she said noncommittally.

Argider studied her. "You're being uncharacteristically vague, so I'm going to assume it's something really embarrassing, like trashy romance novels. Historical bodice-rippers, perhaps?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, what is it, then?"

"Medical thrillers. And forensic mysteries. They stretch believability sometimes, but they appeal to my logical sensibilities while being very entertaining."

"Hmm, seems about right. I can't imagine they're for the faint of heart, though, or the weak of stomach. How do you fare with the gruesome details?"

"Taken in perspective, they're nothing. I did eat a Malboro tentacle, remember?"

"Ah yes, Quistis Trepe, the toughest blue mage. I suppose that's something you'll lord over me for the rest of my days." He grinned at her, but as they both realized the implications of what he said, the dwindling pile of chocolates suddenly became intensely interesting.

After several seconds passed in silence, Argider reached out and turned Quistis' face toward his. "I'm glad you came by tonight," he said.

"So am I."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Argider gathered the chocolate wrappers, crumpled them, and shoved them into his jacket pocket while Quistis teased him about destruction of evidence.

"I said I'd replace them, and I will," he said. "But if Retta discovers just how many are missing, I might not live long enough to do so."

Quistis zipped up her jacket and walked into the vestibule. Through the doors, she could see that the rain had stopped, and a fog was descending in its place. Argider followed her out, then locked the doors behind him.

"So," he said, "regarding this new aspect of our relationship, how long do you think we'll be able to keep Retta out of the loop?"

"I hate to say it, but I think Retta was _in_ the loop before either one of us," Quistis replied.

"You're probably right. She's going to gloat about that."

"Let her."

The lights of the city took on an ethereal glow in the fog, and all of its sounds felt muted. People walked past, hazy specters in the street, and it felt to Quistis like the real world had shrunk to include only Argider and herself.

"You know," Argider said, as he accompanied her toward the lift station, "since we're going to take this slowly, you're going to have to help me out. I'm not a mind-reader, so please, let me know when you're uncomfortable, when I'm pushing too hard."

"I will." Quistis studied the distorted reflections on the wet sidewalk. "Are you really sure it's not a problem?"

"I'm positive. I don't want to frighten you, or hurt you. I want you to be happy, I want you to feel safe." He paused. "I want you in my life, and I want you to _want_ to be in it, too."

Quistis stopped, fighting the flood of tears that rushed to her eyes, not trusting herself to move as they blurred her vision.

"What's wrong?" Argider asked. "Is this one of those situations?"

She shook her head, pressing her hand against her mouth until she was sure her words wouldn't come out as a sob. "There's nothing wrong," she said at last. "I just never imagined … I never thought I'd hear anyone say that to me." She sighed. "Thank you, so much. Rest assured that I want to be a part of your life. And I want you in mine, too."

She slid her arm around him, and he reciprocated, resting a protective hand on her shoulder. As they continued down the street, Quistis glanced up and noticed that he was watching her intently, a dreamy smile on his lips.

She grinned back. "I meant every word I said, and I'm very flattered that you enjoy looking at me, but perhaps you'd better mind where you're going. You and sidewalks don't seem to get along, especially after a rain, and I don't want to get dragged down with you this time."

"I'll never live that down, will I?" he said, then kissed her cheek before facing forward again.

The lift was departing as they approached the stairs to the skyway. Quistis groaned in frustration, but Argider seemed more than happy to remain with her until the next lift arrived. They chatted about inconsequential matters, and, both being slightly giddy, they were quick to laugh at the smallest provocation.

"A weekend never seemed so long as the one that lies before me now," Argider said. "Maybe I'm being too forward, but I don't suppose you'd mind having dinner with me tomorrow evening?"

"No, not at all," Quistis replied. "I'd love to. The same restaurant as last time?"

"Well, that's hardly a romantic spot …"

"But the food was very good."

"No argument there. The same restaurant it is, then! Is 1900 hours okay?"

"That's fine by me."

"But please," he said, "allow me to pay for your dinner this time."

Quistis pretended to think it over. "Very well," she said, "it's a date."

As the signal for an incoming lift sounded, he pulled her close and kissed her goodnight. He waited as she boarded the lift, and she waved to him as the shield materialized around her.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

 _The success of the distillate method of introduction opens the door to other methods of skill delivery, some of which may eliminate the need for ingestion and the physical stress of skill usage altogether. These methods are still in the initial stages of research and development, but if they are successful, the blue mage of the future will be more powerful, more resilient, and have a wider range of skills at their disposal than ever before._

\- N. Devres, _Chaos in a Capsule: The Development, Usage, and Implications of Skill-Bearing Distillates_

Quistis wondered what the "other methods" mentioned by the author might be as she worked on the draft of the final section of the curriculum. She supposed details of their development were closely guarded, but entertained the idea that she might be able to mine some information about them from Argider. She glanced at him and tried to gauge from his expression what he must be thinking as he read through the draft of the lab report she'd placed on his desk that morning.

Much of her apprehension about establishing a romantic relationship with Argider came from the fear that it would significantly change their working one. She needn't have worried. Though their conversations had taken on a new level of intimacy, during work hours, Argider maintained a professional distance from her, and avoided physical contact. A "monumental effort," he called it, and admitted that it was the only way he could properly focus on his work. Quistis appreciated this arrangement, especially the increase in productivity it inspired when she found that the hours seemed to pass more quickly the harder she concentrated on her work.

She looked forward to their nightly walk to the lift station, and to whatever plans they may have made for the weekend. More than that, however, she looked forward to the woman she was becoming in the warmth of his affection and encouragement – equal parts strong and tender, smart and lighthearted. He was secure enough in his own identity to not be intimidated by everything she could be, and her realization that embracing all aspects of her personality did not diminish who she was translated into true confidence that extended to all areas of her life.

None of this was lost on Retta, who had picked up on the subtle change in both Quistis and Argider the first morning they were all back at work. She congratulated herself for having called this result from the get-go, and couldn't resist gently teasing them about having taken so long to get to this point. She even pardoned Argider for the stolen chocolates, suggesting he give the ones he'd bought to Quistis, instead.

Quistis resumed her work. While preparing the curriculum reminded her of her official job, Garden had become more of a concept to her than a real place, even though she was due to return there in less than two months. Her departure from Esthar was the only cloud on her horizon right now, and she'd avoided discussing it with Argider, figuring that since it was inevitable, it could wait until the last possible moment to be addressed. She was happy, and she wanted to hold onto this feeling and keep the real world at bay for as long as possible.

She looked up when Argider said her name. He pointed to the report in front of him and smiled.

"For the most part," he said, "this is a well-written report. I've only made a few suggestions, and they're in regard to readability." He closed the report and looked at the cover, and his smile faded. "However," he continued, "I have found a single, serious error, and I'm afraid that it will require you to rewrite an entire page."

"What?" Quistis asked. Suddenly, every element of the report, from the statistics and conclusions to her writing and the formatting, sprang to mind, each infused with a measure of doubt. "Is it a statistical error? I checked the numbers several times over. Did I neglect to mention a set of statistics? Did I format a chart incorrectly?"

Argider shook his head in response to each of her questions and motioned her toward the desk. He turned the report around so that she could read it, but did not open it. Quistis relaxed. It was only a formatting error, then. But where? She looked at the title, at their names below it, at the laboratory information and the date.

"I suppose I formatted the cover incorrectly," she said. "But how? I could've sworn it matched the template in the style manual."

Argider did not answer her question directly; instead, he uncapped his pen and drew a bold line through his own name. "That's what the acknowledgment section is for," he said, the trace of a grin returning.

Quistis stared at him.

"I provided the space and equipment for the experiment, and I helped to secure test subjects," he explained. "But the experiment itself – the hypothesis, method, execution, and report – was all yours. As is the credit."

Relief and gratitude flooded Quistis' heart. She looked alternately at Argider and the edited report cover, and she intended to thank him profusely, but when she opened her mouth, the first sound out of her was a loud, awkward giggle.

"Hey," Retta called from the front desk, "no hanky-panky during work hours!"

This only made both of them laugh, even as Argider assured Retta she had the wrong idea. When their laughter quieted, Argider handed Quistis the report.

"Fix it," he said.

"I will," she replied. "And thank you. Another person might not have said anything, and I'd have been none the wiser." She paused. "This isn't some display of favoritism, is it?"

"I'd have done the same no matter what you decided after that evening in the lab. It's only the right thing to do. You work so hard, it's time you were recognized for that." He grinned. "It's time the world got to know Quistis Trepe."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

As the end of the year approached, Retta grew increasingly excited. It was a time of festivities in Esthar, from the celebration of the solstice to the beginning of a new year, and she was wrapped up in preparations.

"It's not just the dinners and the parties," she told Quistis, "though there's no denying that those are incredibly enjoyable. It's the little rituals and everything they symbolize; it's the continuation of traditions that link us to the farmers and the herders from whom we're descended, traditions that not even a dictatorial sorceress could suppress. We're not only celebrating the occasions themselves, but also our own resilience and tenacity, as Estharians and as humans."

"What do the celebrations entail?" Quistis asked.

Retta launched into an explanation, prefacing it with a quick history lesson, then frequently interrupting herself and doubling back to clarify important details. Finally, she gave up, and turned toward Quistis, her eyes sparkling with a new idea.

"It's difficult to properly explain without a frame of reference," she said, "but perhaps firsthand experience might convey more than my words ever could. Would you like to join us for the solstice? You and Argider, both?"

"I really appreciate your invitation, but won't your husband mind?"

"Not at all! We have plenty of room for guests, and we always end up preparing far too much food for our little family. I've been inviting Argider for years, but the man always has an inexplicable bout of humility and insists he'd only be an imposition. Maybe you could change his mind." She winked at Quistis.

"It does sound tempting."

"Please consider it. You two lovebirds have all of the new year's holiday to enjoy each other's company. The solstice is for family."

"Family?" Quistis blinked. "In that case, I really _would_ be imposing."

Retta shook her head. "Relatives are determined by blood. Family is determined by bonds. And I feel we've bonded well in the time we've worked together." She smiled. "In these past months, I've watched you blossom, from a smart but slightly stiff young lady into an intelligent, confident, accomplished woman. One who still finds time to listen to me prattle on. How can I not consider you family?"

"Thank you, Retta."

"It's my pleasure."

Quistis frowned. "But what about Argider?"

"What _about_ Argider?" Argider emerged from between the shelves, carrying a stack of papers that he laid on Retta's desk. He grinned. "Are you ladies gossiping about me? Whatever you heard, it's all lies."

"Retta was telling me about the solstice celebrations," Quistis said.

"Has she invited you yet?"

"Yes. But that's not what concerns me. She said the holiday is popularly celebrated among family, but she also says she's invited you in the past. Do you have no one to celebrate with?"

"I do, but I choose not to. It's nothing dramatic – they haven't disowned me or anything, and we actually get along very well. But they all live quite far from here. I have one sister, who lives with her husband and young daughter near the Vienne Mountains. Her husband is an engineer for the local mine, and she works as a bookkeeper for the same company. After my parents retired from their jobs here, they relocated there to be near their grandchild. I can't blame them; it's a nice respite from the bustle of the city."

"So why don't you spend the holiday with them?"

"Because I don't want to relive the holiday of five years ago. I'm not used to very cold weather to begin with, and that year, a blizzard came through that snowed us in for three days. We had no electricity, the remains of the holiday meal only stretched into the second day, and my niece, who was still an infant at the time, became inconsolable. It was a stressful situation for all of us." Argider chuckled. "I still speak with my family on the holiday, but I have let them know that I will not visit until after the spring thaw."

"And still he refuses to spend the solstice with us," Retta said, going through the paperwork he'd brought her. "We don't even run the risk of being snowed in."

"I'll go if Quistis goes," Argider said.

Retta brightened. "You will?"

"Sure. In the past, I've felt awkward being the only outsider there. If she goes, then we can be awkward together."

"Both of you have a remarkable talent for constructing obstacles out of thin air." She turned toward Quistis. "Well, what do you say? You'll have another familiar face there, a nice meal, and a firsthand observation of the celebration. Doesn't seem like a bad way to spend the longest night of the year."

"No, it doesn't," Quistis said, smiling. "Count me in, Retta, and thank you, again."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"The details of the invitation certainly were unusual," Quistis said, as she met Argider at the lift station closest to Retta's home. She adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder. "I was expecting dinner, and perhaps some socializing, but not an overnight stay. I fear I'm taking advantage of her hospitality."

Argider hoisted his own bag. "It's part of the celebration, a tradition known as the Dawnwatch." He caught Quistis' perplexed expression, and continued. "It's exactly what it sounds like. Each member of the household takes their turn watching the sky for the first light of dawn, usually while minding a small lantern to make sure the candle inside doesn't burn out. Retta will probably elaborate on this, but it has its roots in the culture of the nomadic herders who were the first Estharians.

"The reasoning behind it was that the darkness conceals threats – in the herders' case, natural predators who would harm their animals – and that those already vulnerable become even more so during the night. So, just as the herders watched over their flocks and herds until the sun rose, braving the elements, we do the same, to remind us of the sacrifice and dedication that gave rise to our society, and to remember those among us who could still use some protection."

"That's a lovely sentiment," said Quistis.

Argider grinned. "Remind yourself of that when you're shivering outside tonight, looking at a little lantern."

Retta's husband greeted them warmly, ushering them into the large apartment and taking their bags. He turned down a hallway, but doubled back, looking bashful.

"Umm, Retta was … unsure of the, er, specifics of your situation," he stammered, "so we prepared both spare rooms. I have to say one is significantly smaller than the other, though."

"I'll take that one, then," Argider said. "Thanks, Haren."

"Poor Haren," said Quistis, "given such an uncomfortable task. Retta could've asked us beforehand."

"Absolutely not," Retta called from the kitchen. "That's a sensitive subject, and I'm not one to pry into others' personal lives."

Quistis and Argider looked at each other, then at Haren, and all three began laughing.

After Haren had delivered the bags to their respective rooms and joined his wife in the kitchen, their two sons ventured into the living room to investigate the visitors. They immediately recognized Argider, and seemed thrilled that he'd decided to spend the holiday with them. They were more subdued around Quistis, quietly studying her, no doubt furiously scanning their flighty childish memories to place her. Suddenly, the younger boy's eyes grew perfectly round, and he pointed at her.

"You're the airship lady," he exclaimed.

"Airship lady?" Argider asked, looking at Quistis.

"Yeah," the older boy chimed in. "She flew the Ragnarok! And her friends are real, live pilots!"

"You don't say? Well, now I need details."

"It's a long story," Quistis said.

Argider leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head, and stretched his legs out in front of him. "It's a holiday. I've got nothing but time."

Quistis launched into a truncated account of the events of three years ago. The boys waited patiently for mention of the airship, then drifted away as the story moved on to time travel and positive thinking.

"Wow," Argider said when she'd finished. "Kiros told me that you were part of that group of SeeDs, but it seems he left out quite a bit. As did you. Why didn't you ever mention it?"

"I didn't think it was pertinent information."

"Piloting Esthar's flagship is _always_ pertinent information."

"So, what would you suggest I do, incorporate it into my introduction? 'Hello, I'm Quistis Trepe, and I once flew the Ragnarok.'"

"You can't deny it has a nice ring to it."

Quistis chuckled and shook her head. She settled back, leaning against Argider and taking in the aromas and light chatter drifting in from the kitchen, basking in the warmth and comfort of a space made into a home.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The cold, dry wind sliced through every layer Quistis wore, and she gratefully accepted a blanket from Retta. She sat in a chair on the balcony, next to Argider, and looked at the small lantern sitting in front of her.

Retta's two sons had taken the first shift of the Dawnwatch immediately after dinner, bundling up and enjoying their dessert outside. Retta and Haren alternated duties in the hours after the boys went to bed, and now, approaching one in the morning, it was Quistis' and Argider's turn. Retta brewed a fresh pot of coffee and brought several new candles and a lighter out to the balcony.

"The original candle never quite makes it through the night," she said. "Try to light the new candle with the flame of the old one first, but if that fails, use the lighter. Just don't let one flame go out before the other is lit."

"You can count on us," Argider said, pulling his cap down to cover his ears.

"Continuity is extremely important." Retta turned to Quistis and explained the significance of the ritual, adding specific historical details to the story Argider had told her earlier. "Thousands of years later," she said, looking over the city, "we take light for granted. But there are those among us who are still vulnerable: the children and the elderly, the heartbroken and the infirm. We keep watch for them, too."

She sighed, then perked up. "Well, I'm off to bed, then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to knock on our door. Good night."

Quistis draped the blanket across her legs and looked around. Other balconies had small lanterns swinging from the railings or sitting on tables, giving off a telltale glow. The lights of businesses below had been turned off or dimmed, and the early morning stillness descended around her.

Argider was so quiet that Quistis thought he might have fallen asleep already, but when she glanced at him, she saw him apparently lost in thought, the flickering candlelight playing across his features.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered. "I just can't believe it's this time of year already. The months flew by."

"I know what you mean. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was well on my way to heatstroke, and now I'm afraid I'll freeze before sunrise." She paused. "I can't remember if I thanked you."

"For what?"

"For helping me out that day. I really was worried that that was it for me. It would be kind of a silly way to go, especially after a life of battles."

"I'm sure you did."

"If anyone had told me where that afternoon would lead, I'd have called them delusional. Just as I would've anyone who said I wouldn't want to leave Esthar."

"You don't have to leave yet."

"I have a little over a month left. And if that month passes as quickly as the last six …" She stared at the flame inside the lantern. "It's strange. Throughout my sabbatical, I've felt as though I was finally building a life for myself, but it's a cruel illusion. Once my time is up, I have to let it all go and return to Garden. I was never supposed to get this involved with anything. I was supposed to come here, study, do my work, and go back as the same person who left. But I'm not the same person, and I don't want to give up what I've found. I don't want to give up my apartment, my intellectual pursuits, my independence. I don't want to give up you."

Argider laughed quietly. "I can't do anything about that other stuff, but we don't have to give each other up. There might be a significant physical distance between us, but I'm not about to forget you. We can still communicate, maybe arrange to meet every now and then." He shrugged. "But if you want to chuck me aside with all of the other things you've found here –"

"No!" she said, louder than she anticipated. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but when the silence around them seemed otherwise unbroken, she continued with a lowered voice. "I'd never do that! But I can't help wondering how well a relationship can work with so much distance between. I'm worried that you'll get tired of waiting for me, that you'll move on to someone who's actually _present_."

"I don't want anybody else."

"You say that now, but you can't predict the future."

"No one can. But you _can_ have a little faith, however illogical, that things won't go to hell just because you don't have complete control over their every aspect." He reached over and took her hand. "Have some faith in me. I have faith in you."

Those simple words warmed her, and she gave his hand a squeeze. "All right. It's not something I'm used to, but it's worth a try. I'll have faith in you, too."

"Besides," Argider said, "if no one can predict the future, no one can say you won't eventually end up here, anyway."

Quistis nodded. "I like that thought. Let's hold onto that for now."

As Retta had warned, the original candle did not last the night. Hours later, their fingers stiff from the cold, Quistis and Argider worked to replace it, angling the lantern away from the wind, giggling quietly as Quistis twice dropped the new candle while trying to transfer the flame. Finally, she succeeded, and Argider removed the little stub of candle to allow her to put the new one in. When she closed the lantern, he presented her with the old candle, cupping his hand around it to protect it from the wind.

"Make a wish," he said.

"That's for birthday candles," Quistis laughed.

"Well, I don't know when your birthday was, so consider this a belated celebration. Go on, before it goes out."

Quistis leaned forward and blew out the flame. Then, she leaned forward a bit more and kissed him, before flopping back into her chair.

"Wow, thanks," he said.

"A celebratory kiss for a belated celebration."

"I'll bet I know I what you wished for."

"You'd be wrong."

"Oh, really? What did you wish for, then?"

Quistis shivered and rubbed her arms. "Daybreak."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

 _In this experiment, subjects were asked to indicate which skills they had learned and which they had failed to acquire through the ingestion of a distillate. They were sorted into groups based on the skills they had not acquired via distillate, and were given processed items corresponding to each skill._

 _In 95% of the cases, ingestion of a processed item resulted in the acquisition of the corresponding skill where the ingestion of a distillate had previously failed. Patterns in the skills the subjects had not acquired through the ingestion of distillates but acquired via processed items indicates the possibility that the organic matter present in processed items may facilitate skill absorption in certain individuals. Furthermore, patterns in the data also suggest that individuals may exhibit an affinity toward particular types of organic material (i.e., mineral, plant-based, animal-derived, etc.) that expedites absorption through processed items while hindering absorption via a distillate._

\- Q. Trepe, "A Comparative Study of the Efficacy of Different Methods of Introduction Across a Selection of Blue Magic Skills"

A few days into the new year, Argider strode into the library a half-hour late for his shift, carrying a large envelope and wearing a ridiculous smile.

"I'll probably regret asking," Retta said, "but what in the world are you up to?"

"I've got something for Quistis," he said, handing the envelope to her. "Consider it a little new year's gift."

From the corner of her eye, Quistis could see Retta leaning across the desk to get a better view of the contents of the envelope. Quistis slowly pulled out a comb-bound document printed on heavy paper. It looked like a report. She read the title, and her name beneath it, and gasped.

"It's an official copy," Argider said. "One of the first printed. We'll be getting one for our collection, but that one's all yours."

Quistis flipped through it, marveling at how professional, how _real_ her own words and figures looked. It was a tangible outcome of her work that no one, not even Garden, could take away from her. "Thank you," she said, her words dissolving into a breathy giggle.

Retta groaned. "May the heavens help me," she said, "I have lived to see the death of romance." She turned toward Argider. "What kind of a gift is that?"

"An extremely thoughtful one," Quistis said. "It _is_ my first publication."

"Courtship among eggheads. I suppose Haren and I were a bit more traditional."

"I assume Haren is a flowers-chocolates-jewelry kind of guy," Argider said.

"Yes, normal gifts."

"Do you remember the first gift he gave you?" Quistis asked.

"Like it was yesterday," Retta said. "It was a leather-bound, embossed, first edition of Schauenfelder's collection of Zebalgan-era myths."

"Yep, that's the most normal gift I can think of," Argider deadpanned.

"One could almost accuse the poor man of having no imagination," Quistis added.

"That's enough," Retta said as they laughed, though she was unable to maintain a severe expression for long. "Don't you two have work to do?"

"I'm almost finished," Quistis said.

"Lucky you," Argider responded. "My work has no end in sight. Speaking of which, I have a conference coming up at the beginning of next week, so –"

"Retta's shift, then dinner afterwards?"

"Exactly!" Breaking his own rule, he kissed her on the cheek before heading back to his desk.

Retta sighed. "I tease, but I'm really happy for the both of you," she said. "So, what are you going to do with that report? Frame it?"

Quistis studied the dimensions of the document. "It might be too thick for that. What I'd really love to do is leave it casually lying on the headmaster's desk for him to find."

"Ooh, that is delightfully wicked!"

"But I'm worried he might throw it out. I think I'll keep it with me, though, as a kind of bargaining chip, to prove that I'm capable of more than what he thinks I am."

"It's going to be strange not having you around. I'm sad to see you go."

"And I'm very reluctant to leave."

"But you'll keep in touch, right?" Retta smiled. "I know you'll be coming back to see Argider, but please don't forget about a certain nosy woman he works with."

"How can I? You've helped me so much, and become such a good friend. I promise, when I do visit Argider, I'll meet him here, so that I can visit you, too."

"I notice you didn't dispute 'nosy.'"

Quistis laughed. "No, but I don't really like that term. I think 'inquisitive' suits you better." She slid the report back into the envelope and excused herself to finish the edits on the curriculum.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

On the morning of Argider's conference, Quistis sat at one of the tables at the front of the library, reading a book completely unrelated to her work. She listened to Retta converse quietly with patrons and enter data into her computer, to the soothing sounds of shuffling papers and clicking keys. She heard the doors slide open, heard two people identify themselves, then heard one of them say her name.

She looked up and saw a man and woman, dressed in full Estharian garb, holding up the hems of robes that had not been designed for walking in this part of the city. Retta motioned toward Quistis when they asked for her, concern written on her face. As the visitors approached, Quistis looked at the document the woman carried and recognized her own report.

"Quistis Trepe?" the woman asked. Quistis nodded, and the woman extended her hand. "Good morning. I am Dr. Kitra Mohren, the head of research and development at Odine Laboratories, and this is Dr. Nico Devres, who directs the blue magic branch of the department. If you have the time, we would like to speak with you about your report."


	8. Chapter 8

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

The timing of this visit was not coincidental. The researchers would've known Argider would be at the conference, and they wanted to speak with Quistis without his input or interference. Though she wondered why, Quistis was actually glad they'd done this, appreciative of the opportunity to get to know the laboratory personnel without her prior prejudices and Argider's promise hanging over the interaction.

Dr. Mohren and Dr. Devres sat down across from Quistis, smiling at her, but saying nothing beyond the exchange of pleasantries that accompanied their handshakes. Quistis looked from one researcher to the other, then to the copy of her report.

"So, Ms. Trepe," Dr. Mohren said finally, "you are from Balamb, correct? And you are employed by Balamb Garden as a SeeD?"

"Yes."

"What brought you to Esthar for such an extended period?"

"I am here on sabbatical, to research the history and application of blue magic and to develop a curriculum for an introductory course in the subject for Balamb Garden."

"I see." The smile hadn't left Dr. Mohren's face, but her eyes were serious. "You're saying that you had no intention of pursuing an individual research project like the one detailed in your report?"

"That is correct."

"What inspired this project, then?" Dr. Devres said, adding politely, "If I may ask."

Quistis nodded, grateful to turn her attention to Dr. Devres. The man's features suggested he was well past middle age, and while he was definitely not soft, his manner was considerably warmer than Dr. Mohren's.

"During my research, I discovered that, despite their purity, distillates are not one hundred percent effective in conferring their respective skills on their recipients. However, I was unable to locate a study documenting the comparative efficacy of various methods of introduction across particular skills –"

"Why were you searching for one?"

"To determine whether the organic material ingested through the other methods of introduction had any bearing on the method's effectiveness."

Dr. Devres nodded. "Go on."

"In the absence of such information, I asked Argider if he would be willing to take a processed item for a skill that he had not yet acquired. He agreed." Quistis scanned the researchers' faces for any sign of disapproval. She'd carefully omitted the detail of her own participation in her and Argider's unofficial experiment, for fear that it might cause trouble for him, but she was unsure if she had already said too much. Neither Dr. Mohren nor Dr. Devres reacted, and she continued.

"We worked in the laboratory upstairs, where, prior to taking the processed item, Argider showed me how to operate the battle simulator to gauge the results of the item. The success of his case prompted me to develop my hypothesis, and he suggested I test it through an official experiment."

Dr. Mohren flipped to the back of the report. "I see that you have acknowledged Mr. Cato as providing the space, equipment, and subjects for the experiment," she said. She looked up and studied Quistis carefully. Quistis returned her gaze, sitting very still and fighting the urge to look away. "Is that the full extent to which he helped you?"

No, the timing of the visit hadn't been a coincidence, and now Quistis understood why. She couldn't blame Odine Laboratories for doubting her, a foreigner who swept in and conducted a swift experiment, the results of which undermined years' worth of distillate-specific studies and pro-distillate propaganda. She couldn't blame them, but the insinuation that she hadn't done the work she claimed to have done stung nonetheless. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions, then smiled politely.

"Yes, it is," she said. "I developed the hypothesis, determined the method by which to test it, processed the skill-bearing items myself, and ran the simulator to test the results. I interpreted the data given me by the simulator, and extrapolated the implications of said data. I believe that my hypothesis and my findings run in a similar vein to Fahit's Natural Affinity Hypothesis, the exception being that my study focuses on a mage's compatibility with organic material, rather than any elemental affinity."

Dr. Devres nodded again, but Dr. Mohren seemed unconvinced. "Would you mind walking us through the experiment?" she asked. "In the laboratory, if possible."

"It would be my pleasure." Quistis rose. "Please, follow me."

She led them to the laboratory, where she demonstrated her knowledge of the space and the equipment, elaborated on her hypothesis, and talked them through her method of testing that hypothesis. She even processed another chunk of a barrier and explained how she had acquired sixteen blue magic skills through the raw and processed methods alone. During her demonstration, she noticed that Dr. Mohren became more receptive and Dr. Devres more effusive; the change in the researchers' demeanors bolstered Quistis' confidence, and she soon spoke of her work in a light, efficient tone.

"Thank you very much for the demonstration, Ms. Trepe," said Dr. Mohren, sitting down at the table in the front of the library again. "It is overwhelmingly clear that you know what you are doing."

"Yes," Dr. Devres added, "your knowledge and insight are very impressive. I must apologize for calling your efforts into doubt, but we needed to verify that your report accurately reflects your capabilities." He grinned. "Especially since you seemed to come out of nowhere."

"I understand," Quistis said. "It was a very prudent decision on your part."

"Tell me, Ms. Trepe," Dr. Mohren said, pulling out a small stack of papers from where she'd tucked them inside the report, "what do you plan to do once your sabbatical is over?"

"I'm going to return to Balamb Garden," Quistis answered.

"And what do you do there?"

"I'm an assistant to the administration. Specifically, in regard to student health services. I oversee the inventory of medical supplies and process injury and illness reports. I also work closely with our lead physician to anticipate the items, services, and technology our infirmary might need, and work to secure funding for those purchases. Occasionally, I am dispatched on missions, or sent to negotiate contracts."

"I see. And what of the curriculum you are developing here?"

"I have sent the final portion to the headmaster for his approval. Should he approve it, the curriculum may be introduced as early as the beginning of the next school year."

"Will you be teaching it?"

Quistis shook her head, feeling her anger from several months ago flare up in her chest, recalling how Cid would rather she simplify the course and turn it over to an unknown instructor, who likely wouldn't be a blue mage, than let her teach again. "No, doctor, teaching falls outside of my responsibilities at Balamb Garden. My involvement with the curriculum ends when the headmaster gives final approval on it." She swallowed hard and tried to shove away the memories.

"That strikes me as odd," Dr. Devres said, "considering how familiar you must have become with the material. I assume it will be taught by another blue mage, at least?"

"I'm afraid I can't guarantee that. It will be taught by whomever Garden hires."

Dr. Devres made a discontented sound and frowned. He glanced at Dr. Mohren, then at the stack of papers she held. She gave him a knowing look, then slid the stack across the table to Quistis.

The top page contained a short history of Odine Laboratories, only slightly more elaborate than the one Argider had told her. The company had formed in the wake of Adel's defeat to gather Esthar's top scientists and use their knowledge and talents to build a self-contained, sustainable society. The paper provided a few impressive numbers: how many gallons of purified water were delivered to the city on a daily basis, the total annual weight of food products provided by livestock that had been genetically modified to better withstand the harsh climate, the volume of emissions produced by Esthar's power plants compared to those in other industrialized areas. Quistis moved the page aside, then froze when she saw what was written on the one below it.

 _Join the Team at the Forefront of Innovation_ _•_ _Help Shape the Future of Esthar_

She stared at the researchers seated across from her, whose smiles were now genuine, warm and hopeful. "What is this?" she asked.

"It's exactly what it looks like," Dr. Mohren said. "We would like you to join us. Your report is impressive, not only in its argument and composition, but also in regard to how you made the most of your limited time and resources to achieve solid results. That is evidence of a lot of dedication and hard work, admirable qualities in any O. Labs candidate."

Quistis went through the other papers: the Odine Laboratories' mission statement, a detailed description of the position they were recruiting her for, the benefits afforded that position, and an official application form.

"I appreciate your interest," she said, "but I need to ask, why me? Why would you consider an individual with very little hands-on experience and no formal education in this specific field? Especially when you have plenty of recent university graduates to choose from?"

"Because credentials and experience are relatively easy to obtain, with a little commitment. But your insight, your different approach to the subject matter, sets you apart from the recent graduates, and can help open up new avenues of research, and thus lead to significant breakthroughs."

"And that insight comes from my status as a foreigner. I assume you wish to hire me to keep my research here in Esthar."

Dr. Mohren raised her eyebrows, but Dr. Devres broke into laughter.

"She's a sharp one, eh?" he asked Dr. Mohren, then turned to Quistis. "I can't deny that you've found a grain of truth there, Ms. Trepe, but that's not all there is to the matter. Your 'foreign' approach to the subject is, above all, _refreshing_. These students, bless their ambitious hearts, are all too often slaves to the textbook. They may have a deep interest in blue magic, but in their desperation to perform well and secure employment upon graduation, most do not question what they've learned. In the best cases, this produces very competent, if predictable, graduates. In the worst cases, it produces an army of simpering sycophants."

"And Dr. Devres should know just how refreshing your experiment was," Dr. Mohren said. "He was an early proponent of distillate use, and worked closely with the method's developer, Dr. Vardan, to expand distillate applicability. Thanks in large part to Dr. Devres, nearly all known blue magic skills have a corresponding distillate."

Quistis felt her face flush. She looked at Dr. Devres, who smiled back at her. "I … I didn't know. I'd read some of your work regarding distillates, but I had no idea how deeply you were involved in their development. I'm sorry."

Dr. Devres laughed again. "Sorry for what? The lifeblood of science is argument and adaptation. You found an insufficiency in my work and strove to explain it and offer solutions. I am actually very grateful. When a development goes unquestioned, it begins to die. Your report has given new life to distillates research, shaken us out of our complacency."

"However," Dr. Mohren chimed in, "you _will_ need to obtain academic credentials eventually. Odine Laboratories cannot retain you if you do not have a degree, or if you are not actively pursuing one." She reached over and selected the sheet marked "Benefits" and laid it on top of the stack for Quistis to read. "Fortunately, we can help with that. Odine Laboratories will pay for your tuition at Esthar University, up to six courses per semester. Many of the courses that deal with theory are available remotely, via their website, and run on expedited schedules of six to eight weeks each. Naturally, laboratory courses run longer and are available only on campus. By following a full course schedule, you should have your degree within about three years."

Quistis looked at the paper and shook her head. "This all sounds very intriguing," she said, "but a little too good to be true. I keep waiting for the catch."

"There is no catch, only that this will require an incredible amount of work and dedication on your part. But judging from what you've done here already, we are confident that you have the skills and work ethic to succeed."

"Perhaps. By the way - and forgive me if this sounds forward - but what do you offer in terms of compensation?"

"It's not forward at all. It's a practical question. While we may not be able to offer you what you currently make as a high-ranking SeeD, you will not be wanting for money. Odine Laboratories prides itself on its employee retention, a large part of which is due to our competitive salaries." She turned the paper around and scribbled down a number. "Bi-weekly," she said, turning it back so Quistis could see.

True, the salary Dr. Mohren offered wasn't quite what Quistis earned as a SeeD, but not by much. Quistis had already put away a significant amount in savings, and she was sure that by the time she began to notice the difference, if ever, she would have long acclimated to the Estharian economy.

 _Acclimated_? Quistis frowned. Was she seriously considering this offer? It definitely was tempting, especially in light of her interactions with Cid over the past few months. But despite those interactions, Balamb Garden was the only home she could remember, and she still felt a sense of duty toward it. And _because_ of those interactions, she knew that a decision to leave Garden was irrevocable. What if things didn't work out in Esthar? Where would she go then? Where would she call home?

There were too many factors to consider, too many possible outcomes, for her to make the decision right now. She thanked the doctors and told them as much.

"That's perfectly understandable," Dr. Mohren said. "It was a bit unfair of us to spring this on you so suddenly, but I do hope you will consider our offer." She held out a business card and told Quistis to contact her when she submitted an application, to expedite the normal process.

The researchers thanked Quistis for her time, then rose, shook her hand, and left the library. Quistis accompanied them to the exit, and as the doors closed behind them, she sighed and leaned against the front desk.

"What was that all about?" Retta asked. "It looked like they were putting you through your paces. I admit, I tried to eavesdrop, but I could only catch a few words here and there."

"They were," Quistis answered. "They wanted to verify that the experiment I reported was my own work."

"What in the world for?"

"For this." Quistis dropped the application and information packet onto the desk. "They offered me a position as a researcher with Odine Laboratories."

Retta stared at the papers. "Oh my goodness," she said. "What did you tell them? Did you accept?"

"Not yet. It was all too much to process at once. I'm going to need to look this over in my own time before I give them an answer."

"Argider will be thrilled to hear this."

"I'd rather he not know."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I don't know if I'll accept the offer. And more importantly," Quistis looked through the high windows at the clear winter sky, " I care about him a lot, and while I value his opinion, this is something I need to decide for myself, without anyone's input. I need to know whether I'm ready to take this step."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Lying usually came easily to Quistis. She wasn't proud of it, but a talent for subterfuge was essential to success as a SeeD. Lying to opponents was effortless, and the occasional white lie to her friends or colleagues was only marginally more difficult.

But lying to Argider, even if only by omission, was nearly impossible.

As a consequence, she was quieter than usual when she met him at the restaurant that evening. He noticed.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked. "You haven't said much, and you've hardly eaten anything."

"I'm fine," she said, "just a little tired."

"Retta's shift's too early for you?"

"I think so." She smiled, grateful for the out. "I've gotten very used to sleeping late. This definitely doesn't bode well for my return to Garden."

"You need to readjust. Maybe we should start meeting for breakfast, instead." Realizing the implications of what he said, he looked up quickly, his eyes wide, the color rising in his cheeks. "At a café or something," he added. "Arriving separately. You know, I wasn't suggesting anything … suggestive."

Quistis laughed. "You're so cute when you get flustered. Don't worry, I understood what you meant." She dropped her gaze to the tablecloth, becoming serious. "But I do feel bad that you felt the need to clarify what you said. I feel bad for making you wait."

"Don't. Don't you dare." He reached over and took her hand. She looked up, into his eyes. "That's not why I'm with you. If it happens, wonderful. If not, it's no problem. You offer me so many more reasons to enjoy having you in my life." He smiled tenderly, running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. "I don't want you rushing into anything and then regretting it. When we do reach that point, I want both of us to enjoy it."

"Thank you. Truly, I'm not averse to the idea, but allowing myself to be so vulnerable …"

He leaned across the table and kissed her. It was brief, light, but full of affection. She felt her shoulders relax, and leaned forward as he pulled away, stealing one more moment from his lips.

"… is not impossible," he said, finishing her sentence. "Take your time. I'll be here."

She squeezed his hand, feeling the world shift inside of her. The tiny fluttering things that used to take flight in her chest, that used to blindly, madly beat against her ribs, were no more. Instead, they seemed to have coalesced into something larger, something calmer, but no less powerful. Each beat of its gentle wings filled her heart to near bursting, until she wanted to cry, until she wanted to pull Argider close and hold him tightly until the strength in her arms gave out.

She loved him. The thought crossed her mind suddenly, unbidden, and she shook it away. It was stupid; what did she know about love?

She cared about Argider. She liked him very much, for his kindness, his intelligence, his lightheartedness, even his awkwardness. She liked the way he saw her, liked the way he made her feel about herself.

But love?

That was asking the universe for too much.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"I'm looking forward to sitting down to lunch with you again," Xu said. "Or just chatting in the office. Seriously, it's a lot easier to deal with Cid and these boneheaded students when I have someone to complain about them to."

"Well, now I know what my true contribution to Garden's administration is," Quistis deadpanned.

"Oh, don't be like that! Anyway, two more weeks, and everything will be back to normal." Xu peered into her monitor. "You don't look terribly excited."

"Must be a poor connection. I assure you, I'm grinning from ear to ear."

"Very funny. Really, though, how can you not be excited to come home?"

"I'm very happy to see you again. And to see everyone else. And, goodness knows, I could've used some of Dr. Kadowaki's advice over here. But I also enjoyed this taste of independence, of coming and going whenever I pleased, of pursuing knowledge that actually applied to me."

"Is that all you were pursuing?"

Quistis frowned.

"You don't hide things as well as you think you do," Xu continued, "at least, not from me. When it became clear that your giddiness wasn't the result of alcohol or some trendy Estharian drug, that only left one other explanation." She shrugged. "I don't know the guy, so I can't say whether or not you've made an absolute fool of yourself. On the bright side, though, whatever you've been up to over there didn't affect your work performance, so no harm done. Right?"

"Thank you for understanding."

"No problem. Besides, a couple more weeks, and he'll be history." Xu smirked. "Never figured you for a fling."

Fling? Quistis wondered for a moment if that's all she was to Argider. Given the pace at which their relationship was progressing, however, that seemed unlikely. She already worried about maintaining the relationship across the distance between Esthar and Balamb, and Xu planting doubts was not helping.

She decided to ignore her friend.

"You mentioned when I answered that you had something to tell me," Quistis said. "I assume that's why you called me so early on a Saturday morning."

Xu leaned forward. "Do I ever! It's not official yet, but that's only because of red tape, so it's perfectly okay to tell you. Just promise me you'll act surprised when you hear it from Cid."

"What is it?"

"Cid's decided to give –" Xu scowled and turned around. Through the computer, Quistis could hear a dull thumping sound, followed by faint voices. "Excuse me a minute, Quistis. It seems a couple of idiots are looking to get hurt."

Quistis saw Xu walk away, heard her open the door, then heard Selphie's voice loud and clear.

"Hey, Xu, sorry to wake you, but I need these travel forms signed," Selphie said. "I forgot about 'em yesterday, and me and Rinnie have to be outta here first thing Monday morning!"

Quistis heard Rinoa apologize in the background. Xu grumbled something, and must have been looking over the forms, because Selphie bounded into view, looked at the computer, and waved to Quistis.

"Hi, Quisty!" she said. "What are you doin' up so early?"

"Tilmitt!" Xu shouted. "Get away from my computer!"

"Aww, come on, I was just saying hi to Quistis!"

"It's all right," Quistis shouted, hoping her voice would carry to Xu. Then she turned to Selphie. "It's good to see you. And it's actually not that early over here."

"Oh yeah, time zones. I always forget about those things."

"You're a damn airship pilot," Xu said. "How can you forget about time zones?"

More grumbling. Rinoa walked up to the computer and waved. She explained that the situation in Timber was changing, and she needed to be there to help sort through the developments.

"We drafted our Articles of Secession," she said, "and we sent it with our delegate to the Galbadian Congress. But we never heard anything back, so I ended up going through hundreds of pages of official minutes just to find out that our delegate got cold feet!" She placed her palm to her forehead and shook her head. "Can you believe it? So, Timber's holding a special election to choose a new delegate, and we're going to take the opportunity to revise our Articles of Secession while we're at it."

"Congratulations on your progress," Quistis said. "And good luck for the future. I assume Selphie is going with you. What about Squall?"

"Cid's got him all tied up in paperwork. That's been the story since you left." Rinoa giggled. "He might not show it, but I think he's the most excited out of all of us to see you back here."

Xu reappeared, grabbed a pen, and signed the forms. Then she looked at Quistis. "I'm going to run these up to Cid's office real quick," she said. "Since these two knuckleheads are already here, do you mind talking to them until I get back?"

Quistis smiled. "Not at all."

"Knuckleheads? Bleh!" Selphie stuck out her tongue in the direction Xu had gone. Then, she settled into Xu's chair, leaned forward, and asked the inevitable question. "So, how's my second-favorite Estharian hunk?"

"Second-favorite?"

"I am nothing if not loyal, especially where Sir Laguna is concerned."

"Well, your loyalty won't be tested anymore. Argider's taken."

"What? By who?"

"By _whom_ ," Rinoa corrected, looking as if she already understood.

"Okay, okay, by _whommm_? Seriously, who is she? I've got a couple of spare grenades with her name on 'em!"

"Now, Selphie, let's not resort to violence," Quistis said, fighting a grin. "Besides, I think she's someone you'd like."

"Hmph. I doubt it."

Rinoa smiled at Quistis from behind Selphie, and gave her a knowing wink.

"Actually," Quistis continued, "I _know_ you like her. You wouldn't want to blow her up, at the very least."

Rinoa's shoulders began to shake, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Selphie took a few more seconds to put the pieces together.

"What are you talking abou - _Ohh._ Quisty! You? Whoo-hoo! I take back everything I was thinking!"

"So, when did this happen?" Rinoa asked.

"About two months ago," Quistis replied.

" _Two months_? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was being cautious. I didn't want to take the chance that word might get back to Xu, and possibly Cid. They might've panicked, and ordered me back to Balamb."

"That's understandable."

"Nuh-uh," Selphie chimed in, "it means she didn't trust us! C'mon Quisty, how could you not trust _me_?"

"Your website might have something to do with it.," Rinoa said. "You have divulged details about missions before."

"Accidentally!"

"Maybe I was also being selfish," said Quistis, interrupting her friends' discussion. "I wanted to hold onto this for a while, to enjoy it without worrying about what others might think." It was one of those easily-crafted tiny lies, harmless, and useful for pulling a conversation back from tangential arguments.

It was enough to satisfy Selphie, and the three women continued talking, about their lives and their work and the future, particularly that of Quistis' new relationship. Xu returned just as Selphie was offering, with a mischievous grin, to personally fly Quistis to Esthar for any little rendezvous she might have planned.

"Not on Garden's money, you won't," Xu said. She motioned for Selphie to vacate her chair and handed her a folder. "0600 train to Timber, Monday morning. Don't miss it, because I'm not approving another trip on such short notice."

Selphie and Rinoa waved to Quistis as Xu escorted them out. Xu returned, flopped into her chair with a sigh, and stared at the monitor for a few seconds. "Now," she said, "back to that news I was going to share, before I was interrupted. Quistis, you're getting a promotion!"

Quistis' jaw fell slack. "Come again?"

"Cid's giving you a promotion. I processed the paperwork myself, a few days ago. And get this: it's one of the cushiest jobs here at Garden, administrative assistant to the Registrar."

"A secretary."

"That's an outdated term, Quistis. The point is, you won't need to worry about anything other than helping maintain student records. Of course, you'll retain your SeeD rank – and salary – and you'll have to keep training as part of our front-line defense, but you don't have to go on any more middling little missions. No more listening to the sick students gripe and moan, no more fighting for funds for another case of tongue depressors. And, most importantly, no more flying halfway around the world to sit through boring contract negotiations." Xu beamed. "That must've been one hell of a curriculum you developed. It sure impressed Cid!"

Quistis highly doubted that was the case. If anything, their clashes during her sabbatical should've resulted in a demotion. There must be another reason. No missions, no contract negotiations, a stable post in one of Garden's offices … Quistis realized with a surge of panic that Cid wasn't promoting her for either her work or her behavior, he was placing her in a position where she wouldn't leave Garden again. She gripped the table to steady herself, grateful that Xu couldn't see her white knuckles, and tried to match Xu's smile.

"I'm flattered," she said, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"You should be." Xu studied the monitor, registering that Quistis didn't sound happy. "I know I said to keep this under wraps until Cid officially tells you, but you _are_ allowed to be excited, at least around me."

"I am."

"I'm unconvinced."

"What do you want me to do, dance and shout? I'm just stunned. This was unexpected."

"It's supposed to be. What a 'welcome home,' huh?"

Indeed. "But I never requested a promotion," Quistis said, her shock giving way to irritation. "I would've appreciated Cid discussing this with me first. "

"What would've been the point? You wouldn't have turned it down." Xu frowned. "Would you?"

"Maybe."

"What's wrong with you? Didn't you hear what I said earlier? This job has all the perks you currently receive, and then some, but without any of the bothersome assignments."

"Those 'bothersome assignments' are what I've trained for. I have very little experience in managing records. I feel like I'm being forced to retire."

"That's ridiculous. Don't tell me you actually _like_ sitting through negotiations." Xu narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, isn't that how your whole little Esthar adventure started? Is that what this is about?"

"Not exactly."

"What _is_ it about, then?"

Quistis took a deep breath. "It's the finality of it all," she blurted out. "The predictability, every day the same as before. No chance of change, no room to grow. It's like being put into a box I'll never break out of."

Xu raised an eyebrow. "Break out? Quistis, it's a job, not a prison sentence."

"With that job, there's very little difference."

"I think I know what your problem is," Xu said, nodding to herself. "You got too involved in this sabbatical. It's hard for you to imagine getting back to your old routine. Tell you what, I'll schedule a few sessions for you in our reintegration program. Usually, it's for SeeDs returning from undercover assignments, but I think it's applicable in your case, too."

"Reintegration? Xu, I don't need -"

"There's no shame in it. Stuff like this happens all the time. Garden is a closed society. We operate by our own rules and standards, and sometimes, when you've spent too much time outside of it, it can be intimidating to come back."

Quistis gritted her teeth, realizing the futility of argument.

Xu was silent for a moment. When she leaned toward her computer, Quistis was startled to see how open her expression was. She looked vulnerable. Quistis had never seen her like that before.

"I don't want you to squander this opportunity," Xu said, "just because you're a little confused right now. Quistis, I care about you. You're my friend, my only true friend. I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to go off on some stupid little mission and never come back." She jabbed a finger toward the camera. "Listen, you and me, we've given Garden everything: we've risked our lives for it, we gave it our childhoods, we gave it our innocence. I think it's time we just sit back and let Garden give to us."

Xu had a point, but Quistis was surprised to hear her make it, since she'd always seemed _willing_ to give Garden her all. Two years older than Quistis, Xu was at Garden by the time Quistis arrived, and she'd already built a reputation as a scrappy cadet with no patience for those who couldn't keep up with her, physically or intellectually. She also did not mask her disdain for the drama that seemed to swirl in the air at Garden, butting into arguments to offer frosty logic, and breaking up fights by threatening both parties.

That is how she and Quistis met. Quistis was trying to break up yet another fight between Seifer and Squall, tugging on Squall's collar to remove him from the tussle while deflecting Seifer's indiscriminate punches. Suddenly, she felt Squall's jacket jerked from her grip, then saw somebody shove Seifer to the ground.

"What is it with you two?" Xu shouted, standing over Seifer with her hands on her hips. She turned to Squall, who was adjusting his jacket, and continued, "You're here to learn and to train, not to try to kill each other. And look what you've done, you've dragged your classmate into your stupid little war! You even hit her, you bastard!" She kicked the sole of Seifer's boot, drawing a high-pitched yelp from him.

"If you two dumbasses can't get your acts together, I'll appeal to Headmaster Cid for your expulsion!" She finished by yanking Seifer to his feet and pushing him away, then walking to Squall and administering a smack to the side of his head. Then she turned to Quistis.

"I don't know why you bother with these clowns," she said.

"I don't like to see them hurt each other," Quistis answered.

"You're too soft. Who cares what they do to each other, as long as you don't get caught in the middle?" Xu grinned and introduced herself. "Stick with me for a while," she said, "and let the idiots sort themselves out."

Quistis smiled at the memory. She was grateful for Xu's friendship, for her support during the most trying segments of SeeD training, for her unabashed joy and congratulations when Quistis became a SeeD. Over the years, Quistis' feelings for Xu had not changed.

But everything else had.

Since being dismissed from her position as an instructor, Quistis' relationship with Garden had deteriorated. Even before her sabbatical, she'd felt her skills were underutilized and her individual achievements – the few that there had been – had gone relatively unrecognized. She remained at Garden out of a sense of duty and indebtedness, and because, until recently, she couldn't even fathom living elsewhere.

Xu's experience at Garden, on the other hand, had been consistently positive. In Quistis' mind – and that of many Garden students – Xu _was_ Balamb Garden, a more constant figure there than even the headmaster. She enjoyed her work, eagerly met the challenges that came with it, and believed wholeheartedly in Garden's mission and its means of sustenance. Her trajectory had been straight and smooth from day one, a steady, if difficult, climb to where she stood now. She found everything she needed in Garden; perhaps that's why she was so perplexed that Quistis couldn't do the same.

Quistis told her as much, and winced at her frustrated grunt.

"That doesn't mean the situation can't change," Xu said. "If you put in the work, I'm sure you can fix what went wrong. Come on, Cid just promoted you!"

"To a position where advancement is nearly impossible."

"Dammit, Quistis, why are you being so difficult?" Quistis watched Xu's features harden before her eyes, until her friend was lost behind the scowl of the Balamb Garden SeeD commander. "Trepe, your return to Garden and your promotion are non-negotiable. They are orders. I'm glad you made the most of your sabbatical. I'm glad you enjoyed your time there, and I'm even glad that you found someone to have fun with. But it was an assignment, and it's over now. It's time to come home. You're not Estharian. You're not a researcher. You're a Rank 30 SeeD from Balamb Garden."

Xu's voice was edged with ice, and her eyes were just as cold. She looked straight into the camera.

"This is where you belong."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The top-right corner of Dr. Mohren's business card had become dog-eared, and part of a faint brown coffee-cup stain ran across it. Quistis looked at the card, turning it at different angles so the metallic logo caught the light. She flipped it over and saw that Dr. Mohren had written a website address on the back. Quistis turned on her computer and input the address, and an online application for employment at Odine Laboratories opened up.

Her name and basic information – easily gleaned from her Garden profile – already populated the appropriate fields, and a small checked box near the top flagged the application for urgent review. Quistis stared at the application for a few minutes, then began filling in the missing information, each keystroke a tiny rebellion.

She'd forgotten about the shackles of Garden until recently. But now, she felt them close around her ankles, colder and heavier than ever, and she didn't need to have that dream again to know that there were no longer any chains for her to fight against.

She considered the "Submit" button for a while, idly tracing its bright blue border with the cursor. Clicking that button was taking a step into unknown territory. The uncertainty that lay beyond was frightening, if a bit thrilling. But the certainty that awaited her at Balamb Garden was terrifying.

She clicked.

 _Thank you for your interest in Odine Laboratories. If your qualifications match our needs, we will contact you soon._

Per Dr. Mohren's instructions, Quistis composed a short note letting her know of the submitted application. Quistis read it over several times, to be certain she'd expressed herself clearly and professionally. Then, another button, another click, and she watched a tiny paper airplane glide across her screen.

 _Message sent._


	9. Chapter 9

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

Quistis shelved a copy of _Lunatic Lineage: Genetic Diversity Among Monsters of the Moon_ , then descended the stepladder and went back to the cart for another armful of returns. Retta looked at her and sighed.

"You really don't have to do this," she said. "It's your last day here. I thought you'd spend it canoodling with Argider in the back."

"Not at work," Quistis reminded her. "We like to keep our personal relationship independent of our working one, to the extent possible."

"'To the extent possible,' indeed. Don't think I haven't spotted you two sneaking the occasional smooch behind the shelves."

Quistis smiled dreamily. "Guilty as charged."

"Oh, is Argider ever going to miss you! _I'm_ going to miss you, terribly. It's hard to believe your six months are already up." Retta squinted at a call number, then shelved the book in its appropriate spot. "I still remember your first day here. You looked so nervous!"

"I was."

"And look at you now, a curriculum to your name, and a published report, to boot! Dare I say a new job on the horizon, as well?"

"Perhaps."

"You haven't submitted an application?"

Quistis pretended to be very absorbed in locating the proper place for the book she held. "I have, but I haven't heard back yet. It's been almost two weeks."

"Well, those things take time. You said one of the researchers already offered you the position, correct?"

"Yes, but a lot of things could have changed: maybe Odine Laboratories' budget doesn't allow for new hires right now, maybe there was a change in personnel higher up, maybe they found a more suitable candidate."

"Don't think like that. It's probably just tied up in an administrative backlog. I'm sure it won't take much longer."

"I hope you're right."

Retta gathered more books in her arms. "Have you told Argider yet? Or am I still under a gag order?"

Quistis chuckled. "You still are, unfortunately. Do you mind keeping this secret for a little while longer? I'd rather not tell him until everything is certain."

"You can count on me! But now I _really_ hope you hear from them soon."

It was nearly five o'clock when they finished shelving the returns. Argider had already taken up his post at the front desk. He reached out and hooked his arm around Quistis' waist as she passed, pulling her toward him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and they smiled at each other.

"So, how was your day?" he asked her.

"Productive." Behind her, Quistis heard Retta sniff.

"What happened to 'not at work?'" Retta asked.

"Since it's Quistis' last day, I figured we could bend that rule a little," Argider answered, his eyes still on Quistis.

"Oh, dear … I'm not going to have to hang around and play chaperone tonight, am I?"

Argider released Quistis, then sat straight in his chair and folded his hands on the desk. "No, ma'am. I promise, I will be be on my best behavior."

"Uh-huh." Retta rummaged through a desk drawer and pulled out a package. "Here," she said, handing it to Quistis.

The package was small and rectangular, wrapped in pale pink paper and tied with a gold ribbon, into which was tucked a sprig of tiny silk flowers. Quistis thanked Retta and turned the package over, trying to discern what it might be based on its size and weight.

"Don't open it yet," Retta added. "I'll get emotional, and then the waterworks will start."

"Trust me, it's not a pretty sight," said Argider.

"You've only seen it once before, when my niece called to say she was getting married."

"That's how I know it's not a pretty sight."

Quistis leaned against the desk and listened to the good-natured banter between Argider and Retta, realizing just how much she would miss it, and miss the generally easy-going atmosphere of the library, as well. The library, and the people she'd met there, had offered her a much richer, more personal glimpse into Estharian culture than she could have imagined. The city center would always be impressive; but it was also sterile, and nearly suffocating in its apparent perfection. The noise and activity of the older areas of the city, their sights and their smells and their non-uniform architecture, made them feel lived in, made them feel real, in a sense that the city center was not. The city center was a dream; these neighborhoods were life.

Quistis didn't catch Argider's final contribution to the discussion of Retta's emotional nature, to which Retta responded by laughing sarcastically and flicking the back of his head, before asking him to move so she could retrieve her belongings.

Retta finished buttoning her coat, then turned and placed her hands on Quistis' shoulders. "You've had quite a journey here," she said. "Thank you for letting me be a part of it. Now, promise me you'll keep in touch. I want to know what other great things you accomplish!" She pulled Quistis into a tight hug.

"I will," Quistis said. "And I promise I'll visit when I come back to Esthar."

"Good. Hopefully, that'll be a lot sooner than you think." Retta winked.

As the doors slid shut behind Retta, Quistis turned toward Argider, who, apparently lost in thought, was repeatedly reorganizing the items on the desk. He started when she rapped on the desk, then grinned and motioned for her to join him.

"You seem nervous," she said.

"What makes you say that?" He reached for the stapler for the third time, and she placed her hand on his.

"This. Let the office supplies rest for a bit."

He laughed softly. "I guess I am a bit fidgety. I was just thinking about tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that. How strange it will feel without you here. How empty these last few hours of the day will seem without you to talk to."

"On the bright side, you'll get a lot of reading done." She skimmed her fingers across the back of his hand. "Perhaps you'll pick up a few more seductive phrases to try out when I visit."

"After the smashing success of the last one, I'm hesitant to try again."

"A lot of things have changed since then. I may have become a bit more … susceptible to persuasion."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you do have devilish streak, Ms. Trepe."

"You're no angel yourself, Mr. Cato."

"Perhaps not." Argider stared at her intently, and she felt her face grow warm beneath his gaze. "But I can offer you something that's nearly impossible to resist." He leaned close, and Quistis began to close her eyes, preparing for his kiss. But Argider quickly brought an item between them, and Quistis felt her eyes cross trying to bring it into focus.

"Chocolate," he finished.

Quistis huffed and pushed him away gently, laughing and taking the candy from him. "That was wicked," she said.

"Hey, you got chocolate out of it," said Argider, running a hand through his hair and wearing a lopsided smile. "And, considering chocolate is nearly impossible to resist, I think I was being quite honest."

"An honest thief. This is Retta's, right?"

"It is, but she apparently considers tonight a special occasion, and has graciously given permission." He pulled the bag of candy from the bottom drawer and showed Quistis the note attached to it. It was indeed written by Retta, and the stipulation that her permission was granted only for that night was underlined twice. Quistis read the note over and began to laugh, and Argider soon joined her. The mood lightened, and they relaxed into quiet conversation.

They passed the rest of the workday like this, stopping to welcome the few patrons who visited and trying hard to pretend it was just another evening. After closing, Quistis waited as Argider locked the doors, taking in the sights and the smells and the sounds of the neighborhood one last time.

"So," Argider said, sliding the keys into his pocket, "you must be in a hurry to get back to your apartment."

"Not really," she replied.

"I suppose you have a lot of packing and preparation to do."

"No. I'm nearly finished."

"In that case –" he looked at the sky, then gave her a sidelong glance "—it's a lovely night for a stroll, wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely!"

They turned away from the lift station and headed deeper into the neighborhood, past small shops selling colorful wares and curiosities, past larger stores selling office supplies or groceries, past offices darkened and closed up for the night. Argider pointed out Mitri's shop, and waved to the proprietor through the window. Mitri, elbow-deep in what appeared to Quistis to be random odds and ends, acknowledged him with a curt nod.

The warm glow of the streetlights made the neighborhood feel friendlier to Quistis than when she first walked through here, and clearly revealed the inconsistencies in the sidewalks. Quistis couldn't resist pointing this out to Argider.

"It was right about here, I think," she said. "I remember seeing that particular building."

"You sure have a good memory of that," he said.

"It was fairly significant event. That was the first time I saw you as … _human_."

"Human. As opposed to what, a Behemoth?"

"You know what I mean. Normal, accessible. Before that, you seemed like someone set apart. You were so competent, so self-assured. You seemed too good to be true. But then I saw that you can be just as clumsy as anyone else, and that you can get flustered, and that there's a real person beneath that scholarly veneer. A real, wonderful person."

Argider laughed. "I had no idea that's how you saw me. At the same time, I was afraid I wasn't living up to your expectations."

"Expectations? I wouldn't have guessed you cared about that, especially then."

"Oh, I did. Still do. I've never had anyone look to me, specifically, for research guidance. And that you're also an attractive woman only made me even more nervous about screwing up. That competency you speak of, that self-assurance – I have to admit, a good deal of it was bravado."

"It was plenty convincing."

"It's strange how something so silly as a stumble wound up being so significant. Perhaps we should commemorate it."

"Yes, with a bronze plaque: 'Here Argider Cato nearly fell.'"

Argider was quiet for a moment. Then, he stopped walking and said, "There's no 'nearly' about it. I did fall. Hard."

"What do you mean? You didn't –" Quistis turned around to face him.

"I've had something on my mind all day," he said. "I've been trying to decide whether telling you is a good idea, or whether it's unfair to you. If it is unfair, please forgive me, but I don't think I can bear the other choice."

"What is it?"

"It's just … I can't let you leave without telling you that I love you. I love you, Quistis, and I have for quite a while. Since before that little incident in the lab, maybe even around the time of what happened here. I don't know when it happened, I just know that it did, and I know that it's been torture trying to convert all the 'loves' in my mind to 'likes' when I'm talking to you because I don't know if you feel the same way. But I can't do that anymore, and …"

The sound of blood pulsing in Quistis' ears drowned out Argider's voice. Instinctively, she'd taken a step back when he'd admitted his feelings, ready to defend her already-battered heart. But when she looked at him, at this wonderful, patient man who was currently – and very awkwardly – laying his own heart bare before her, she softened. Her hands trembled and she blinked back tears, trying to ascertain what emotion had spawned them.

 _Love_. The word shone like a beacon in her mind, and so immediately attracted dark thoughts that intended to snuff it out – doubt, unworthiness, fear – thoughts that she forced aside one by one to take hold of the beautiful feeling and surrender it to her heart.

Deep within her, that feeling took root, and the those glorious wings unfurled inside her chest once again, gently and gracefully, beating slow and steady, releasing the tears from her eyes as heralds of joy, the laughter from her throat as its song. She loved him, too. Dark thoughts be damned, _she loved him_ , and nothing was going to take that from her.

Argider was still talking, stumbling over his words, likely wondering whether he'd made a complete fool of himself. Quistis smiled, grabbed hold of the front of his jacket, and pulled him in for a kiss. She felt him flinch in surprise, then recover and wrap his arms around her. She did the same, reveling in the warmth of his body, the pleasure of his kiss, the echoes of his confession of love. When they parted, she looked up at him through dreamy eyes.

"Don't overthink this," she said. "I love you, too." A shiver ran through her body as the words left her mouth, filling her with an exhilarating mixture of happiness, freedom, and desire. They shared one more kiss before continuing on their way, hand in hand.

"Perhaps," Argider mused, the color risen in his face from emotion and exertion, "we should commemorate this event, instead."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Quistis leaned against her apartment door with a satisfied sigh, having just bid Argider an extended farewell on the other side. When he'd asked, between kisses, if there was any chance he might see her again before she left, she laughed softly and told him he'd have to be up early.

"How early?" he asked.

"Someone from Garden will be here to pick me up around seven-thirty, so sometime before that."

"That's not so early," he said, and resumed saying goodnight. "I'll be here."

When he left, he left slowly, reluctantly, smiling at her and trailing his fingertips against hers until the last possible moment.

Now, Quistis looked around the apartment, at the space and the furnishings that had become so familiar to her, so much her own. The little kitchen table, in particular, looked lonely, cleared as it was of books and papers and battered takeout containers. She'd had breakthroughs and made crucial decisions at that table; so much of who she'd become had been shaped there, that she half-expected to see some trace of that process on her fingertips when she ran them across the table's surface. Instead, she touched nothing but cool steel, and chided herself for being so sentimental over a piece of furniture.

She shook that feeling away and finished packing her belongings and cleaning the apartment. When she was done, she stepped back and counted the boxes stacked by the door. Nine. She'd expanded her life by two boxes during her stay in Esthar. Though those boxes contained mostly books and copies of lab reports, she liked the idea that, while it had taken her eleven years to accumulate seven boxes' worth of personal effects at Balamb Garden, she had amassed nearly a third of that during the past six months here.

As the stillness of the night descended around her, she curled up on the couch with a book. She scanned the lines and turned the pages, but registered very little of what she read, thinking instead about Argider. Thinking about what he'd told her, thinking about the strength in his arms and the fire in his kiss, thinking about how much she'd miss him, and trying to imagine his reaction when she returned to Esthar for good.

But _exactly_ when that would happen was up to Dr. Mohren and Odine Laboratories.

Like Retta said, application processes took time. Quistis understood that, and, though it felt like facing down a multitude of small eternities, she was willing to wait. She just hoped Dr. Mohren was willing to keep her word.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"Good morning!" Argider grinned at her, a cup of coffee in each hand and a small box tucked under one arm. "I hope I'm not too early."

Quistis stared at him for a few seconds, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Six-thirty. She'd told him to arrive early, but she hadn't specified _how_ early. She had been up for an hour herself, after a fitful night of nonsensical dreams brought on by the anxiety surrounding her return to Garden. She smiled and let him in.

"Not at all," she said, accepting a cup from him. "When did you get up?"

"Five." He shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't intend to get here so quickly, but apparently, not many people are waiting for lifts at this hour." He set down his coffee and opened the box to reveal a half-dozen pastries. "I brought you breakfast."

They spent the next hour sitting on the couch, eating pastries, drinking coffee, and talking quietly. In contrast to the evening before, their physicality was more subdued, but they found more than enough satisfaction in each other's caress, in the heat of whispered declarations, in slow kisses laced with equal parts reverence and desire.

Seven-thirty came and went, and Quistis briefly entertained the ridiculous notion that Garden had neglected to send anyone to collect her. She swirled the last of her coffee in the cup and leaned against Argider, feeling like a lucky thief for every extra minute that ticked by.

Finally, at about a quarter to eight, she heard voices down the hall, one exuberant, one more inclined to grumble.

"728, 729 … where's 746? Yo, Squall, are you sure you got the right address?"

Upon hearing Zell's voice, Quistis tensed. Argider noticed, and asked what was wrong.

"I'm a little nervous," she replied. "I mean, this is it, my sabbatical's officially over."

"And that's the only thing that is," Argider said. "You're not losing anything you've gained here by going back. Just think of it as an inconvenient relocation."

"A very inconvenient relocation." A temporary one, too, Quistis hoped. If only she'd already heard back from O. Labs!

She rose at the sound of a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it, and Zell breezed through, talking quickly.

"Hey, Quistis!" he said. "Selphie was supposed to come, but Rin got called to Timber last-minute, and Selphie went with her, so – oh!" He stopped and did an abrupt about-face, crashing into Squall, who cursed at him before taking a step back himself.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," said Zell, rubbing the back of his head. His ears were bright red.

"Interrupt?" Quistis asked. She looked over her shoulder at Argider, then began to laugh as she realized what Zell must have assumed. "Oh my goodness, Zell, it's not what you think at all! Now, turn around."

Zell did so, and Squall stood next to him. Quistis introduced both of them to Argider, and held her breath when Argider extended his hand toward Squall. Squall glanced at her, gave a nearly imperceptible smirk, and shook Argider's hand. Quistis exhaled slowly.

"This all you got?" Zell asked, surveying the boxes and lifting three of them.

"Yes. Here, let me help you." Quistis stepped toward him.

"Nah, don't worry about it. Me and Squall will take these down and come back for the rest. We don't mind making two trips, do we, Squall?"

"Speak for yourself," Squall muttered, but hoisted his share of the boxes and started for the door.

"Nice of them to give us a little more time," Argider said when they left.

"Zell moves quickly, so it's not as generous as you think," Quistis said.

"I'll take what I can get."

Zell insisted on carrying the final three boxes down himself, so Quistis and Argider cleared away the remains of their breakfast and followed him out. Quistis took one last look at the apartment, at the kitchen table that now held only a set of keys, then closed the door behind her with a loud click. As Zell finished arranging the boxes in the car, Quistis lingered in the lobby to say goodbye to Argider.

He pulled her close, and told her not to worry. "Nothing's too difficult for the toughest blue mage," he said. "You get back there and show them who you really are! Remember, I'm always here for you. So is Retta. If you need anything, even just to vent a little, give us a call, okay?"

Quistis nodded. "All right. Thank you. Thank you, so much, for these past six months, for everything!"

"Dare I say, for the future?"

"For the future!" She smiled. Through the doors, Zell motioned for her to hurry up. "Well, this is it. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"I'm looking forward to it." One final hug, one last exchange of words of affection, and Quistis walked to the car, ready to face whatever awaited her back in Balamb.

At the airstation, she helped Zell and Squall load the boxes into the airship's cargo hold, and avoided Zell's curious glances as best she could. But once she had settled into her seat and the airship lifted off, she was at the mercy of his indirect interrogation.

"That Argider guy seems nice," Zell shouted over the sound of the engines. "And the two of you looked pretty cozy. Sorry again, if I interrupted anything."

"There was nothing going on," Quistis said. "Argider came to the apartment to see me off. He arrived about an hour before the two of you."

"Heh. Sure, whatever you say."

"Believe what you want. I'm telling the truth."

"Zell, leave Quistis alone," Squall said. "What she does in her own time is none of your business."

"Thank you," Quistis said emphatically, but noticed Squall's mouth turn up at one corner.

"Besides," he continued, "getting all the details is Rinoa's job."

Quistis groaned and sat back. Everyone, it seemed, was intent on manufacturing scandal and gossip where none existed. She stared out the window and let her thoughts wander, and remained that way until the coastline of Balamb came into view. Then, she pulled Retta's gift from her bag and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a book bound in dark blue leather. She turned it over to see the title embossed in gold: _Blue Magic in Myth and Folklore_. Inside, Retta had scribbled a short note:

 _I remember how captivated you were by this book during the first days of your research, so here's the latest edition. Enjoy!_

 _A while before you joined us, Argider told me about you, and he called you the toughest blue mage he'd ever met. Knowing you now, I don't doubt him for a second! I wish you all the best for your future, wherever it might lead you (hopefully, back here!). Take care, and don't forget to keep in touch!_

 _Love, Retta_

Quistis smiled and closed the book, tracing the title with her fingertip. Then, she faced forward and set her jaw, straightening her shoulders and steeling herself as if for battle, as the airship began its descent toward Balamb Garden.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Her dorm room felt so small now. Quistis sat on the bed and looked at the pile of boxes, unsure how she had fit everything in here before. Xu leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and smiled at her.

"It's good to have you back," she said.

"I suppose."

"It's a tough adjustment. Give it a few days, then you'll feel as if you never left. Oh, and I signed you up for the reintegration program. Just five sessions, the first one tomorrow afternoon."

"Xu, I told you that wasn't necessary."

"Everything else about you tells me it is. Come on, cheer up. You're home!" Xu walked to the closet and pulled out a uniform wrapped in clear plastic. "I had your uniforms cleaned so they would be ready when you arrived. Cid would like to see you at your earliest convenience." She laid the uniform on the bed. "Five minutes. I'll wait outside."

Quistis didn't immediately begin changing. Instead, she unzipped her suitcase and retrieved the large envelope that held a copy of her report. She slid the report out and looked at it, focusing on her name on the cover, remembering the feeling of accomplishment she had when she'd first seen it. Whatever Cid might tell her, whatever changes he might make to her routine, whatever future he might envision for her at Balamb Garden – she realized now how little any of that had to do with _her_ , and how much it had to do with Cid's own insecurities, and his struggle to maintain authority over any SeeD who might dare come into their own.

The mundane job, the reintegration program: it was a classic two-pronged approach to breaking someone down to rebuild them to suit Garden's needs. It was something she might have suggested herself, not that long ago, to remedy a rebellious student. And now here she was, on the other end of that process. She couldn't help but be amused that anyone would consider her rebellious; in fact, her designation as such proved that Cid didn't know her at all, and that he didn't care to, either.

As she fastened her jacket, she caught her reflection in the mirror, and was surprised by what she saw there. She no longer saw a failed instructor, or an insecure girl, or even a high-ranking SeeD. Instead, she saw an accomplished researcher, an Odine Laboratories recruit, and a confident woman on the cusp of making her own way.

And, she vowed, that was the only Quistis Trepe Cid would ever see again.

Cid was seated at his desk, flipping through a binder, when Quistis entered his office. He looked up and smiled at her.

"This is excellent work, Quistis," he said, closing the binder and patting the cover. "I look forward to implementing your curriculum at the beginning of the next school year, provided we can find an instructor."

Quistis bit back her protest and thanked him.

"And excellent work should be rewarded," Cid went on. "Therefore, I have decided to promote you, to an administrative assistant to the registrar."

Quistis looked at him impassively and said nothing. Cid laughed nervously and adjusted his glasses.

"It is customary for an employee to express gratitude for a promotion," he said.

"Yes, it is. But it is also customary for an employer to provide more information on the new position, particularly in a case where the employee did not request a promotion," Quistis answered.

Another nervous laugh. "Indeed it is. Well, there's not much to say about the new position. You will be providing clerical support to the registrar. Maintaining student records, assisting with enrollment and course planning, those sorts of things." He cleared his throat. "Now, this does not excuse you from your duties as a SeeD. You will need to report to training each day before the start of your shift in the office, and you must meet an annual requirement of completed missions."

"Missions?" Quistis brightened slightly. Maybe Xu had misunderstood the terms of the promotion.

"Very few, very far between. I need to justify your salary. Don't worry, they will be short-term missions, all low-risk and high-profile. Event security, dignitary escort, diplomatic visits. You are only required to complete three of these each year to remain a SeeD in good standing."

"Perhaps I shouldn't complain, but with all due respect, sir, those kinds of missions do not justify my salary, nor do they accurately reflect my capabilities as a Rank 30 SeeD. Unless you are planning on adjusting my rank, as well?"

"Gracious, no. Quistis, I thought you understood by now. You, and your comrades from the Ultimecia mission, are … special cases. You are all in high demand, but as the Balamb Garden headmaster, I cannot risk losing any of you in a ridiculous mission for a low-profile client. You are far too valuable to Garden's operation for that."

"To Garden's _financial_ operation, am I correct?"

Cid glared at her. "Yes," he said, through gritted teeth, "you are correct. You and your friends are celebrities, at least as far as SeeDs go. If Garden can secure lucrative contracts without risking your safety, I see no reason not to do so. It's a sound financial strategy, and keeps Garden running smoothly." He shook his head. "But we've digressed from the point at hand. Miss Trepe, you have been promoted to a new position, and starting tomorrow, you are to report to the registrar's office after training. Do you have any questions directly related to your new orders?"

"No, sir."

"And?"

Quistis stared at him for a few seconds, watching his brows come together and his mouth curve into a frown. Then, she nodded curtly and saluted. "Oh. Yes. Thank you, sir, for the promotion."

"Dismissed."

Quistis walked out of his office, her back straight and her steps sure. She nodded to Xu, seated at the desk outside the office, but did not stop to speak with her. Only when she was in the elevator, headed back to her dorm, did she relax, breaking into a wide grin at the memory of Cid's frown and laughing quietly.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

"Booyaka!" Selphie felled a Grat in one hit, then turned to Quistis with a smug grin. "What do you think of that? Totally unjunctioned, too!"

"Impressive." Quistis took down the second Grat and cut several sacs filled with sleep powder from its corpse. "I take it you've been training more than usual."

"Yeah. There's not much else to do around here, unless Rinnie needs to go to Timber or someone else needs to fly somewhere." She shook bits of monster flesh from her weapon. "At least you've got a regular job to go to. Being on standby is sooo boring!"

"My job's not much more exciting. Yesterday, I had the thrilling task of personalizing and sending out enrollment notices for all students with IDs ending in 4." Quistis slipped the sleep powders into a small satchel at her hip. "To make matters worse, I feel so out of place there. The office is already fully staffed, and the other three women are all civilians from Balamb who seem to know each other well."

"Hey, all good friends start out as perfect strangers! I'll bet once you talk to them some more, you'll all end up as buddies."

"They don't seem to trust me. I've heard them wondering out loud why Cid placed me there. One of them even asked me if I was sent to act as Cid's 'eyes.'"

Selphie laughed. "Wow, talk about paranoid! What did you do?"

"I laughed and told her I wasn't. I don't think she appreciated the laugh."

They interrupted their conversation to engage another pair of Grats. After the battle, Selphie shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong about you all becoming friends. But, hey, you've still got me and Rinnie, and even Xu! And —" she waggled her eyebrows — "your hunky librarian. You _are_ keeping in touch, right?"

Quistis smiled. "Frequently."

In the three weeks since she'd returned to Garden, she'd spoken to Argider almost daily, and to Retta every weekend. This did not sit well with the reintegration specialist, however, who reported to Xu that Quistis' communication habits were hampering her readjustment process. When confronted by both Xu and the specialist, and threatened with further reintegration sessions, Quistis only grinned. Her conversations with Argider and Retta were the antidote to the barrage of Garden propaganda the specialist was heaping on her – asking her repeatedly to recite the SeeD oath of service, quizzing her on random details of the Garden code, reminding her of her position in and contributions to Balamb Garden – and she was not about to give them up. Her refusal was an understated rebellion, but a rebellion nonetheless, a part of her that Garden had no right or power to control.

When Quistis and Selphie reached the Training Center exit, Xu was waiting there, holding a slip of colored paper.

"You have a message," she said, handing the paper to Quistis. "The number came up as Estharian. A Dr. Mohren. She asked you to call her as soon as possible. Is everything all right?"

Quistis looked at the memo and swallowed hard, trying to keep her nerves in check. "Of course," she said.

"You never mentioned seeing a doctor while in Esthar. Were you ill, were you injured? An injury might explain your odd behavior since you returned."

"No, Dr. Mohren isn't a medical doctor. She's a researcher. I spoke with her regarding blue magic research." Nothing Quistis said was a lie, but she still felt anxious even talking about Dr. Mohren, afraid that somehow, Xu would pry the whole truth from her. She thanked Xu and excused herself, but Xu placed a hand on her shoulder before she could leave.

"Then, what explains it?" Xu asked.

"Explains what?"

"The way you've been acting. More often than not, I catch you with your head in the clouds. You don't take the reintegration program seriously, and Cid told me that you were less than gracious about accepting your promotion. That isn't the Quistis I know. Are you _sure_ you didn't sustain an injury in Esthar? Don't act stoic for my sake."

"I'm fine, Xu. You don't have anything to worry about."

"But I do worry. Even ruling out illness or injury, there's still the possibility of recreational substances. The characteristics of addiction –"

"Oh, it's no drug!" Selphie piped up, craning her neck to read the memo in Quistis' hand.

Xu turned to her. "What are you talking about?"

"Quisty might be hooked on something, but it's no drug!"

Xu sighed and looked at Quistis again. "She's talking about _him_ , isn't she?"

Quistis laughed. "I wouldn't call him an addiction," she said. "Maybe Argider is one of the reasons my head's in the clouds sometimes, but there are others. I've been preoccupied with a matter of research that I was unable to complete in Esthar. In fact, Dr. Mohren should be able to give me the missing information regarding that matter. If you'll excuse me, I need to return her call."

Quistis brushed past Xu and walked toward her dorm. The knot in her stomach seemed to grow tighter with each step, unsure as she was about the nature of Dr. Mohren's call. Although she knew it was most likely a call informing her of her application's acceptance, Quistis couldn't discount less favorable outcomes. She sat down on her bed and dialed Dr. Mohren's number, and tried to ignore the heavy, sticky feeling of monster effluvia drying on her clothes and skin.

The call seemed to take an eternity to connect. After the third ring, someone answered.

"Mohren."

"Hello, Dr. Mohren," Quistis said. "This is Quistis Trepe. I received your message, and I am returning your call."

"Ah, Ms. Trepe!" Dr. Mohren's voice brightened. "I'm so glad to hear from you. I do apologize for the delay, but we have finally processed your application." She paused, and Quistis felt her heart skip a beat. "Congratulations! I am pleased to officially offer you a position as a researcher with Odine Laboratories."

"Oh, my goodness," Quistis stammered. "Thank you!" She felt silly; she should have been prepared for this. But sitting in her small room, disheveled from training and reeking of sweat and blood, feeling the furthest thing from a professional researcher, Dr. Mohren's confirmation felt surreal. Flooded with relief, Quistis could not suppress a girlish giggle.

"I take it you accept," Dr. Mohren said.

"Yes, I do. I accept your offer of employment with Odine Laboratories."

"Great! Now, I'm sure you're aware, there is a process we need to follow. First, you will need to complete and sign all the necessary paperwork, after which we will discuss your start date, your relocation to Esthar, and your enrollment at Esthar University. I could send you the paperwork, and we can complete this process remotely, but I would prefer to do it in person, if possible. Are you able to come to Esthar soon? Say, within the week?"

"Sure. Do you have a specific time in mind?"

"Let's see ... I have an early-morning slot available on Friday. 0800 hours. Would that work for you?"

Quistis scribbled down the information on a notepad. "Friday ... 0800 hours ... That's perfect. I will see you then!"

"I'm looking forward to it, and to welcoming you to the O. Labs family!"

Quistis thanked Dr. Mohren again and hung up the phone. Then, dirty clothes and all, she flopped back onto her bed, smiling until her face hurt, and mentally drafting the letter of resignation she'd present to Cid.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Quistis boarded the lift just beyond the shopping mall, smiling politely at her fellow passengers and adjusting the bulk of her messenger bag. She held the bag on her lap, feeling the edges of a folder stuffed to capacity with paperwork, brochures, and information packets through the canvas. There was so much to do, from submitting her resignation letter to Cid, to enrolling in her first courses at Esthar University, to breaking the news to Xu, but all of that would come later. Right now, she had only one objective, a single destination in mind.

Retta looked up from her work at the sound of the automatic doors. As she recognized Quistis, a grin spread across her face.

"Quistis!" she exclaimed. "This is such a nice surprise. How have you been?"

"Very well, thank you," Quistis said. "And yourself?"

"Oh, same as always. Not that I'm complaining." Retta looked at her watch. "I'm very happy you decided to visit, but I'm sure it's not me you came for. Argider will be here in a little while."

"I came to see both of you. A few days ago, I received some exciting news, and I wanted to share it."

"Exciting news? This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain visit that occurred a few weeks ago? A certain application? A certain _lab_?"

Quistis nodded.

"Oh, my goodness, I am so happy for you!" Retta ran around the desk to give Quistis a hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!"

"Does this mean I'm released from my gag order?"

Quistis laughed. "Not until I tell Argider myself."

Retta feigned disappointment. "But, after that, who's left to tell?"

"I'm sure you'll find somebody."

"You know me too well, already." She glanced at her watch again. "Oh, when will that man get here? Of all the days to run late!"

Argider was not, in fact, running late. A few minutes before eleven, he walked into the library, enthusiastically discussing a new shipment of books with a patron. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Quistis, his eyes widening, a grin forming on his lips. The patron, aware that he no longer existed in Argider's world, instead waved to Retta before making his way to the shelves.

"Quistis." Argider walked toward her. "It's great to see you! I didn't think Garden would let you get away."

"They didn't," Quistis admitted. "I came here without telling them. I doubt they'll be very pleased with me when I return."

"No kidding." Argider's forehead creased in concern. "Listen, I'm very happy you're here, but if it's at the cost of your job ..." He trailed off as Quistis shook her head.

"It's all right," she said. "I won't be working for them much longer, anyway." She pulled the folder from her bag, and retrieved her contract with Odine Laboratories. She handed it to Argider, and watched as his expression changed from concern to confusion to disbelief.

"Wow," he said, pointing to the contract. "So, you're telling me —"

"A few months ago, while you were attending a conference, two researchers from Odine Laboratories visited me here." Argider leaned forward and began to speak, but she held up her hand and continued. "Dr. Devres and Dr. Mohren. They basically interrogated me on my report, asking me detailed questions, and even asking me to walk them through the experiment. I did so, apparently to their satisfaction, because Dr. Mohren invited me to apply for a position as a researcher with O. Labs. Which I did.

"Dr. Mohren contacted me earlier this week to give me the news. I met with her this morning, and I accepted the offer. I work for O. Labs now. A Level-One Researcher in blue magic research and development."

Argider stared at her for a few seconds, then began to laugh. He looked at the contract again, then back at Quistis. He pulled her close and lifted her off the ground, spinning around once before setting her back down. "That is amazing news! Why didn't you ever tell me they recruited you?"

"I didn't want to say anything until my application was finalized," Quistis said. "Also, after the fuss I made about Odine Laboratories all that time ago, and your promise that you wouldn't make me deal with them directly, I felt a little awkward. But the main reason is that this is a big step, one I needed to take on my own."

"And did you ever! So, when do you start?"

"Next month. Dr. Mohren was gracious enough to allow me time to properly resign from Garden and relocate to Esthar."

Retta leaned forward. "Sorry for butting in," she said, "but will Odine Laboratories be helping with your relocation?"

"No, but they suggested a few properties with whom they have close partnerships." Quistis pulled several brochures from the folder and handed them to Retta.

"I see. Have you decided yet?"

"I haven't had time to look them over."

"Hold off on that for a bit, then. Let me speak to my friend. She should be able to help you find a lovely place within your budget."

"Thank you Retta! I would really appreciate that." Quistis turned back to Argider, who was still staring at her as if she'd just walked out of a dream, and smiled. Retta looked at both of them and sighed.

"Judging from the expression on Argider's face," she said, "I can tell there won't be much work done today. Tell you what, Argider, why don't you and Quistis take a few hours to celebrate? Let the news sink in. I'll cover for you."

Argider stood up straight and tried to adopt a serious demeanor. "I appreciate the thought, Retta, but that isn't necessary. I can work just fine." His gaze drifted back to Quistis and his smile returned. "I am a professional, after all."

"Not today, you aren't. Go on, enjoy yourselves! Just be back before my shift is over, because my offer does not extend to pulling overtime!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

As they exited the library, Argider asked Quistis what she had in mind for celebration. "We have a little more than five hours to ourselves," he said. "What would you like to do first?"

Quistis thought for a moment. "I think … I'd like to pay Wilbur a visit. Can you take me to where he 'works?'"

"Wilbur? You want to visit a cat?"

"Not just any cat. Wilbur was the catalyst for everything that happened, no pun intended. I feel I need to thank him. Without him, I wouldn't have this new job, I wouldn't have taken a sabbatical ..." She leaned over and kissed Argider's cheek. " ... I wouldn't have met you."

"How right you are! In that case, you're not the only one who needs to thank him. I might need to prepare an offering."

"Of what, choice cuts from the butcher?"

"The finest." Argider smiled and cupped Quistis' face in his hands. "You see, it's things like this," he said softly, "unexpected things, beautiful things, things only _you_ would think to do, that make you such a wonderful person. You've got an amazing mind and a heart to match, and I love you for it. I love you for all that you are." He kissed her and she reciprocated enthusiastically, giddy with love and with the freedom of a new beginning.

"I love you, too," she said. She took his hand and they started down the street. "Now, let's go find that cat!"


	10. Chapter 10

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

The silence in Cid's office was broken only by the ticking of the clock on his desk and the skritch of his pen across the paper in front of him. He'd acknowledged Quistis' entrance with a nod, then resumed his work. For what felt like an eternity, Quistis stood at attention, holding a folder containing her resignation letter and waiting to receive her punishment for going AWOL to meet with Dr. Mohren in Esthar.

Finally, Cid laid down his pen, folded his hands, and looked at her. "At ease, Trepe," he said. "I assume you know why I called you here."

"Yes, sir."

"You have committed a very serious offense. Going absent without approved leave, abandoning your post, neglecting your duties … I understand that in peacetime, the significance of these actions is not immediately apparent, but it is vital to the security and continued operation of Garden that our students, employees, and SeeDs do not develop habits that could result in tragedy during conflict."

"Understood, sir."

"The minimum punishment for this infraction is a five-rank demotion and the forfeiture of one month's pay. Since this is your first offense, and your record of conduct with Balamb Garden is otherwise pristine, that is what you will receive. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

"Excuse me, sir," Quistis ventured, removing the letter from the folder. "Before I go, I would like to present you this letter –"

"I have no interest in your excuses, Quistis, no matter how eloquently you may word them."

"This isn't an excuse, sir. This letter serves as notification of my resignation from Balamb Garden, effective in two weeks' time." She approached Cid's desk and slid the letter toward him.

Cid read the letter and frowned, then adjusted his glasses and read it again. Quistis watched his brows draw together and his jaw set, watched his eyes scan the lines – quickly, then very slowly – searching for any flaw, or some sign that this might be an elaborate hoax, a ploy for clemency. Then, finding nothing of the sort, Cid gave a weary sigh and faced Quistis again with an expression that gave no indication of what he might be thinking.

"Let me begin," he said, "by congratulating you on your new job with Odine Laboratories."

"Thank you, sir."

"And I appreciate your providing an official notice of resignation within the appropriate time frame. It's never easy to replace a high-ranking SeeD, especially one with a work history like yours. But we'll manage."

"I'm sure you will, sir."

"With this letter, you are officially terminating your relationship with Balamb Garden. Garden's services and protection will no longer be available to you after your resignation. Should you encounter trouble, or should your new situation not pan out, you cannot appeal to Garden for assistance. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. I understand the risks involved with leaving Garden, and I am willing to take them."

"In that case, I don't think much more needs to be said. You will continue working in your assigned position until the date specified in the letter, and until that date, your punishment will remain in effect. Garden will deduct the equivalent of two weeks' pay from your account to cover the difference. Good luck, Quistis, in your new endeavor." He pushed a button on the intercom on his desk. "Xu, please prepare the exit paperwork for Quistis. Trepe, you are dismissed."

Quistis saluted, then walked out of his office and stood beside Xu's desk. Xu was rummaging through a tall file cabinet, pulling up folders and shaking her head, searching for the appropriate paperwork. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Quistis.

"So, how did it go in there?" she asked, procuring two forms and sitting down to pull up the rest on her computer.

"About as well as could be expected," Quistis replied.

"I guess Cid can't say anything in the face of a resignation letter. What about your punishment?"

"A five-rank demotion and the forfeiture of one month's pay."

"The minimum."

Quistis shrugged. "Credit for good behavior."

Xu struck a few keys and sent the forms to the printer. "It doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

"No, considering my time here is limited. Should it?"

"I don't know. It would bother me a lot. I worked my ass off to reach and retain Rank 30; seeing Rank 25 printed on my discharge papers would be hard to stomach, especially if it's the result of a stupid decision on my part."

"I'm not pursuing a military career. What bearing does my SeeD rank have on the rest of my life?"

"None, I suppose, other than being a point of pride." Xu collected the forms and stapled them together. "I thought you still had that, at least."

"I do. But it seems our definitions of it vary."

"That seems to be the case for a lot of things these days. It's strange … you were only gone six months, but it's like you came back as an entirely different person. It's like Garden life could never satisfy you anymore."

"You're right, but I felt that way long before I took my sabbatical. I didn't voice my feelings or act on them, simply because I couldn't think of any alternative to being a SeeD." Quistis took the papers from Xu and thumbed through them. "I _am_ grateful to Balamb Garden, for taking me in when no one else wanted me, and for giving me a decent education and a job that has left me financially secure. But even when things were going well here, I couldn't help but feel that I was missing something."

"A man."

Quistis laughed. "Argider's a wonderful person, and I consider myself very lucky to have met him, but I wasn't referring to him. What I was missing was a part of _myself_. I enjoy learning new things, a variety of things, and I enjoy asking questions and searching for answers. But, by its nature, Garden's encouragement of such pursuits is limited, and I think I adapted to my environment and limited myself. During my sabbatical, however, I was able to give my curiosity free rein, to ask questions and find answers, to learn more about who I am and how my powers work. That knowledge gave me an anchor, not just among SeeDs or blue mages, but in the wider world. It gave me a sense of where I might belong."

Xu groaned and rubbed her eyes. "Maybe I'm being selfish," she said, "but I just don't know how I feel about this. On one hand, I'm very happy for you, and I admire you. What you're doing takes guts. On the other hand, I can't help feeling … discarded."

"Xu, you know that's not –"

"I know. But knowing doesn't help. We've been friends for years, we've been through so much together, I just kind of figured we'd stay that way. This sounds incredibly stupid, but I feel like I'm losing you to Esthar, to the people you've met there. I feel like I lost a battle that was never there to fight."

For a while, neither of them spoke. Xu's lack of enthusiasm was due to a fear she could barely bring herself to admit, a fear that really hadn't occurred to Quistis. Quistis never imagined that growing close to Argider and Retta would make Xu feel outcompeted; each individual occupied a different space in her heart. Perhaps if Xu could meet them, see why Quistis liked them and how they did not crowd her out of Quistis' affections, she might not feel so bad. Perhaps …

"After my last day of work, I have forty-eight hours to clear out of my dorm room, correct?" Quistis said.

"That's right."

"And during that time, I am still considered a member of Balamb Garden, and entitled to its services."

"Limited services, but yes."

"Does transportation fall under that category?"

"That depends." Xu crossed her arms on the desk and leaned forward. "What are you up to?"

"Would you be interested in helping me move into my apartment in Esthar? Maybe if you saw where I'm going to live, maybe if you met Argider and Retta, you wouldn't feel so threatened."

"So, something like we did before your sabbatical? I assume you'll want the other two ladies to join us, as well."

"More people get the job done more quickly."

"Transportation is definitely a murky issue, but let me work on this request. I may have to fudge a detail or two, but I think I can get Cid's approval." Xu smiled. "Thank you for the invitation, Quistis. It might not change anything, but at least I can give you a proper sendoff. And judging from the previous time, it should be an amusing evening."

"Indeed, considering the company involved."

"Listen, if you breathe so much as a hint of what I'm about to say to Tilmitt or Heartilly – but especially Tilmitt – I will hunt you down and rip your vocal cords out, but I actually enjoyed myself the last time we were all over there." Xu, still smiling, looked back to her computer and waved Quistis away. "Now, get out of here so I can draft this request!"

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The next two weeks passed quickly. Days after presenting her letter of resignation to Cid, Quistis traveled to Esthar to meet with Retta's friend to view available apartments. She decided on one in a quiet neighborhood at the edge of the city center that offered a balance between the vibrancy of the older neighborhoods she had come to love and an easy commute to Odine Laboratories.

The following weekend, she returned to furnish her new apartment. She was incredibly selective, visiting several stores and refusing to purchase anything that she did not love, regardless of necessity. She'd never had the opportunity to furnish her own space, and she was willing to spend the time and money necessary to get it just right. Retta volunteered to accept deliveries on her behalf while she finished up her final week at Balamb Garden, so Quistis left the spare apartment key with her and coordinated deliveries around Retta's work schedule.

She returned to Garden exhausted, but eager to make it through her remaining days there and begin building her life in Esthar. She told this to Argider during a video call a few nights before her final departure from Balamb Garden.

"I can imagine," he said. "I'm pretty eager for you to arrive here, too. You're coming in Saturday, right? Do you know what time yet?"

"At about 1400 hours, give or take a half-hour for loading."

"Do you have a lot of luggage?"

"Ten boxes, one suitcase. And my friends' overnight bags."

"I assume you're hiring two cars, then."

"I plan to. Why is this so important to you?"

Argider smiled. "You wouldn't mind a handsome, totally enamored man offering his service as a driver, would you?"

"Who in the world are you talking about?" Quistis responded, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

"What about a nerdy librarian who is still totally enamored and ready to help you finish taking a big step in your life?"

"That would be wonderful. Perhaps this man wouldn't mind sticking around for the rest of the day?"

"The lady needn't ask."

"Don't set your expectations too high. My friends will be there, too."

Argider shrugged. "Not a problem. I can behave myself for a day." His smile became mischievous. "Especially knowing there are plenty of days ahead when I won't have to."

Quistis blushed and responded with a suggestive comment of her own. Their conversation far outlasted any pertinent information they had for one another, but left Quistis feeling lighthearted and refreshed, and even more enthusiastic about beginning this new chapter in her life.

When the day of departure came, Zell and Squall joined Xu, Selphie, and Rinoa in helping Quistis load her luggage into the airship. As Selphie began her pre-flight inspection, Quistis placed the final box in the cargo hold and watched Zell secure the hatch.

"Man, I still can't believe it," he said, double-checking the locks. "You're actually leaving Garden. I'll admit, I thought Selphie was joking when she told me, and I even doubted Rinoa. But Xu doesn't mess around, so when she said it was true … heh." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm gonna miss ya! Who else will be the voice of reason around here?"

"Thank you, Zell. I'm going to miss you, too. But Squall and Xu are still here to keep things running smoothly."

"Yeah, but who'll be the voice of reason with a _heart_? Neither of those two would get me medicine from Dr. Kadowaki's office at three in the morning after I've eaten too many hot dogs, and without a lecture, too!" He shook her hand. "So, thanks for all you've done. You take care, and tell Argider he'd better treat you good, or he'll have to answer to these fists o' mine!"

Quistis smiled. "I will, and I'll be sure to pass your message along to Argider."

Zell saluted. "Have a safe trip, Quistis. 'Til later!" He noticed Squall approaching and stepped aside before Quistis could return the salute.

Quistis could tell Squall felt awkward. His arms hung at his sides and he kept his eyes down, scanning the ground as if he was searching for something. She noticed Rinoa hovering behind him, clutching the rings on her necklace and biting her lower lip.

"Zell pretty much spoke for all of us," Squall began, "when he said he couldn't believe you're leaving. He's also right to know that neither Xu nor I will pamper him the way you did. He'll just have to learn to deal with solid reason from now on. And permanent T-Board confiscation." He looked over his shoulder at Zell, who winced, then gave a sheepish grin. Standing next to Zell, Rinoa put her hands on her hips and shook her head, then gestured toward Quistis.

"It's going to be strange not having you around," Squall went on. "You've always been one of the few cool-headed, competent people here. Your advice has always been useful. And you're one hell of a card player." He smiled. "Maybe I didn't say this enough, but thank you. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful, I just assumed you knew. But, according to Rinoa, people apparently need to hear things spoken. So, thank you, again, for being a mentor and … and a good friend." He saluted.

Quistis returned the salute. Her relationship with Squall had been confusing, and there had been some painful interactions between them, but also a measure of respect. In the years since they worked together to save the world, they had both matured, and with Rinoa's influence, Squall had become, if not more sensitive, then at least more aware of how his words and actions might affect others. The friendship between him and Quistis became more easygoing, built on practical, straightforward conversations and battle-forged camaraderie.

"You're welcome," she said. "Take care of things here, and take care of Rinoa."

"I will. On both counts, I will." He turned and walked toward the exit, weathering an affectionate ambush from Rinoa as he passed her.

"All right," said Selphie, walking up from the back of the airship and crossing off the last item on her inspection list, "the ship is ready to go! Question is, are you?"

Quistis looked around the hangar, at the SeeD insignia adorning the sides of the airships and the banners that hung from the ceiling, and nodded.

"Absolutely," she said.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Argider spotted Quistis as she exited the terminal, and waved her over. Quistis led her little group to where he was waiting, noticing along the way that Selphie had grown significantly less animated and strangely quiet.

Argider greeted Quistis with a light kiss. "Welcome back," he said, then dropped something into her palm. "Retta asked me to return this for her. The key to your domain."

"A very tiny domain," Quistis said with a laugh.

"But yours nonetheless."

"Not technically. According to the lease –" Argider interrupted her with another quick kiss. "All right, it's my domain."

Xu cleared her throat, reminding Quistis that the world around herself and Argider still existed. Quistis glanced over her shoulder at her friends and saw Xu impatiently tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest, Rinoa grinning impishly, and Selphie gawking at Argider.

"Your loyal subjects?" Argider asked.

"My most trusted advisors and dearest friends," Quistis corrected him. "Allow me to introduce you."

As Quistis did so, Argider grinned and extended his hand, and received three very different responses. Xu gave him a cold smile and a short, firm, handshake; Rinoa was warm and cordial. Selphie, meanwhile, accepted his hand with a husky, awkward laugh, and held onto it a few seconds longer than necessary.

"You'll have to excuse Selphie," Quistis said, recalling Selphie's slack-jawed, starry-eyed reaction to meeting Laguna for the first time. "She's easily awestruck."

"I know the feeling," Argider replied. "I've felt that way for the better part of a year, now." He winked at Quistis, then turned back toward the others.

"All right," he said, "now that introductions are out of the way, let's get Quistis home. Where's the luggage cart?"

"I instructed the terminal crew to take it directly to the pick-up area," Xu said. "We have a hired car waiting there."

"Great! I'll bring the other car around and meet you there."

Quistis watched him walk toward the exit, smiling, but her smile faded when she saw Xu's expression. Xu scowled, forehead creased and one eyebrow raised, in a mixture of perplexity and distaste.

"Really?" she said to Quistis, then pushed past her and started for the exit herself.

Estharian cars were not large. Even with the luggage divided evenly between both vehicles, Quistis watched her friends squabble and negotiate their spaces inside the hired vehicle.

"We still have room in this car," she offered. "Enough for about two boxes, or one person, if anyone would like to join us."

She was met with blank stares.

"Aw, come on, nobody wants to be a third wheel?" Argider asked, accepting a box from Rinoa. "Selphie?"

Selphie giggled awkwardly again, then thrust a box into Quistis' hands and scampered back to the other car.

"Guess not."

When they reached Quistis' apartment building, Argider pulled up to the front entrance, instead of heading into the parking garage. Quistis frowned.

"This isn't a designated parking spot," she said.

"I know," he answered.

"Then why did you stop? I'm sure other cars won't appreciate us blocking traffic while we unload the boxes."

"I know that, too. I'm going to pull into the garage for that. But I thought you'd like to go ahead and do the honors, head up and open your home to the rest of us."

"I can't do that! I have to carry my share."

"You can take your suitcase. And you can help with whatever's left after our first trip."

Quistis narrowed her eyes. "You're up to something."

"Maybe."

"There's something in the apartment, isn't there?"

Argider shrugged.

"Not something that will startle me, I hope?"

"Of course not! It's nothing more than a sentimental trinket. I asked Retta to leave it there when she dropped off the gift she got you."

Quistis raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the building.

"I know that look," Argider went on, grinning. "You're dying to find out what's up there. Go on, then! I'll help the others with the boxes. Besides, I want to see if I can finally get Selphie to actually say something."

"We can't seem to get her to stop," said Quistis, removing her suitcase from the back seat, "so be careful what you wish for."

"Duly noted."

Quistis slid the key into the door of her eighth-floor apartment and chuckled to herself. As calm as she pretended to be, she was eager to see her apartment now that it was furnished. She'd given Retta general instructions regarding the placement of the furniture, but left the details up to her. Quistis stepped through the doorway and flicked on the light.

The apartment looked so inviting, from the couch in the living room to the small metal table in the dining room – as close a model as Quistis could find to the one she'd fallen in love with at her previous apartment. A few prints on the walls gave the apartment some color, and a large wooden bookcase stood against one wall, waiting to be filled.

Upon closer inspection of the bookcase, Quistis noticed several objects on the middle shelf. One was a large woven basket, stuffed full of food and small household items – a pair of potholders, a tiny toolkit – and bearing a card written in Retta's hand. "Welcome home," it read, followed by the signatures of Retta and Haren, and the juvenile scrawls of their two sons. Quistis smiled at the note and investigated the contents of the basket for a while, then turned her attention to the other object on the shelf, a small blue box.

She lifted the lid to find a glass figurine nestled on a bed of cotton. Clear, with swirls of bright orange, the glass had been worked into the shape of a cat. Quistis picked up the tiny likeness of Wilbur, and noticed that it included a portion of Wilbur's blue harness on its back, complete with a slip of paper rolled-up and tucked through the loop. Curious, Quistis removed the paper and unrolled it to find a note in Argider's handwriting:

 _Retta may have beaten me to it, but I want to welcome you home, myself. I can't tell you enough how happy I am that you're here, and that you've found a job suited to your talents. I love you and I'm so proud of you. What a journey these past months have been, and I'm honored to have taken, and continue to take, it with you._

 _\- Argider_

Quistis released the ends of the note, allowing it to curl up again, and pressed the roll to her heart. She looked at the little cat in her other hand, feeling the chill glass begin to warm against her palm. It was a sentimental trinket, as Argider said, but he was wrong when he said it was nothing more. It was so much more – appreciation for the past, hope for the future, a reminder of the serendipitous moment that set her life on a new course she could never have imagined.

She placed the figurine on a shelf and walked to the door when she heard the others approaching. She was relieved to hear Selphie speaking normally again, apparently coaxed into coherence by – from what Quistis could gather – a discussion about food. The small group shuffled inside, set down their boxes and bags, and began looking around.

"Wow, Quisty! This is bigger than your last apartment," Selphie said, running to the balcony. "And the balcony is huge!"

Xu nodded in approval.

Rinoa agreed with Selphie and finished untangling herself from the shoulder straps of the duffel bags she carried. She gravitated toward the bookcase, admiring it. "This is impressive," she said. "How long do you think it'll take to fill?"

"Probably a year or two," Quistis answered, "helped along by the textbooks I'll be purchasing."

"And what are these? Housewarming gifts? How sweet!" Rinoa lifted the glass figurine. "Aw, how cute! A kitty with a backpack."

"That's Wilbur." Quistis explained Wilbur's role, pointing out the harness on his back and Argider's note stuck through the loop.

"Honestly," Xu said, walking over and taking the cat from Rinoa. "Where do you come up with these stories?"

"She didn't come up with it," Argider said. "Wilbur's real. And pretty special to both of us."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the reason Argider and I met, and how I found the library in the first place." Quistis reclaimed the figure and told the story of that day, from spotting Wilbur on the skyway to discovering the blue magic section in the library, sparing no detail about her ordeal in between. She watched Xu's and Rinoa's expressions change, from amusement, to horror, to exasperation and dreamy sentimentality, respectively.

"You're lucky that man saw you outside the library," said Xu, "or your little escapade could have ended very badly."

"Well, I think it's lovely," Rinoa added, "especially because it ended well. Wilbur was like a little agent of fate that day!"

"Quisty, you're neighbor has the coolest-looking cat!" Selphie bounded into the living room from the balcony. "It's fluffy and white with these neat mark– what, what? Did I miss something?"

Rinoa and Xu offered contradictory answers, and Rinoa promised to fill Selphie in while they collected the remaining luggage. When Quistis moved to join them, Rinoa stopped her.

"It's okay," she said, "we can handle the rest. You two stay here. Talk about Wilbur." She winked and ushered a very confused Selphie out the door.

"So, about Wilbur …" Argider ambled to where Quistis stood.

"It's beautiful, and I love it." Quistis replaced the figurine on the shelf, then hugged Argider tightly. "Thank you."

He held her close, running a hand along her back, and sighed into her hair. "Welcome home."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

After spending the afternoon unpacking boxes and settling into the apartment, Quistis and the others joined Retta and Haren for dinner. After a round of her usual teasing – upon seeing Argider surrounded by women, she accused him of having amassed a harem, and asked whether Quistis was okay with that – Retta did her best to give each person at the table her attention, and to learn as much about Quistis' friends as she could in the space of a single meal.

Haren, on the other hand, was thrilled to learn that Selphie had piloted the Ragnarok, and promptly monopolized her time with questions about the mechanics and logistics of it all. Selphie, equally thrilled to be the recipient of so much attention, particularly for her aeronautical accomplishments, eagerly answered his every question and expounded on her answers with choice bits of trivia. When Retta mentioned that it was a shame her sons had not been able to meet Selphie, Selphie responded by scrawling her name across a scrap of paper and offering Retta her autograph.

It was a convivial evening, full of laughter and good conversation, and even Xu appeared to warm up to Quistis' Estharian friends after a while. Argider bid them good night after dinner, and the four women headed back to Quistis' apartment. Selphie did not suggest any slumber party activities this time; apparently exhausted from the excitement of the day, she crawled into her sleeping bag without even changing into her pajamas first, and was asleep within minutes. Rinoa followed soon afterward, leaving Quistis and Xu with a few hours of precious silence.

At a quarter of midnight, Xu sat at the kitchen table, across from Quistis, and stirred the heat out of the coffee in the cup before her.

"I wanted to hate him," she said flatly, suddenly. Quistis looked up.

"I really did," Xu went on. "And he made it very easy to from the start. He's loud, he's annoying, he's incredibly silly. Honestly, if we hadn't verified his credentials, you wouldn't have been able to convince me that this is the same man. The way you spoke of him, I was expecting someone serious and refined." She snorted. "What a surprise."

Quistis said nothing, and dropped her gaze to her own coffee cup.

"But then I saw the way he looks at you. The way he treats you. The way you two speak to each other, and how he brings out a side of you I never even knew you had. I saw how happy he makes you. And that's what's important." Xu's voice hitched strangely in the middle of her last sentence, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "Mind you, I don't think I can ever _like_ him. He's essentially the male version of Heartilly. But, for once, my opinion doesn't matter, and I want you to understand that. Meeting him was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time, and it set into motion a lot of other good things for you. All I wanted to know was that he could take care of my best friend, and, from what I saw today, I think I can trust him to."

Quistis glanced up again, and saw Xu smiling at her, blinking rapidly but unable to hold back a few rogue tears. She took Xu's hand.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for understanding, and for being such a good friend."

Xu laughed and sniffled. "But if he _ever_ does anything to hurt you, you call me right away, and I will be more than happy to fly over here and kick his ass."

"You'd probably have to beat Retta to that."

"I like Retta. I know _she'll_ take care of you."

"And so will Argider. Not that I need to be taken care of in the first place."

Xu cocked an eyebrow.

"But it's nice to know someone will be there in the unlikely event that I do," Quistis acquiesced. "And you can trust Argider to be that person. At the very least, you can trust my judgment."

"After your story about the cat and heat exhaustion, it's easier to just trust Argider himself!"

The two women laughed, and, as the stillness of midnight descended around them, they squeezed each other's hand in a wordless farewell.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

The doors of Odine Laboratories slid open, revealing a long vestibule and, beyond, a pristine lobby. Quistis approached the receptionist at the front desk and introduced herself, presenting the identification badge she'd received during her visit with Dr. Mohren. The receptionist smiled and asked her to take a seat, then called Dr. Devres.

Not long afterward, Dr. Devres stepped out of an elevator and approached Quistis. "Good morning, Ms. Trepe," he said. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, doctor. And yourself?"

"Oh, splendid! We have several large projects ongoing in the blue magic department, and that has kept me on my toes. But I also think it keeps me young. My wife asks when I might consider retiring, and I tell her it's the day she might consider waking up next to a pile of dusty old bones!" He laughed heartily. "Well, let's get started, shall we? In an effort to not overwhelm you on your very first day here, I think we'll start with a leisurely tour of the facility, followed by a rundown of the projects we are currently working on. Shall we begin?"

"Yes, sir – er, doctor." Quistis corrected her words, but caught herself halfway through a salute. She winced. "I apologize. It's an old habit."

Dr. Devres smiled. "No worries, I understand. Took me three years to break my training after I left the army. Funny thing is, I was only in it for two!"

As she followed Dr. Devres on the tour, Quistis marveled at the facility, which was modern and immaculate and brightly lit, and encompassed ten very large floors, seven above ground and three below.

"A lot of highly-classified work goes on down there," Dr. Devres explained. "Weapons and defense development, sensitive government contracts, those kinds of things. But the underground levels also serve as a vault, of sorts, for the results of many of our completed projects. We keep a sample of every successful product there, so that in the unlikely event of a catastrophe, our knowledge is not lost. But access to those floors requires a top-level clearance that not even I possess.

"Our blue magic laboratories are located on the fifth floor," he continued, as he and Quistis entered another elevator. "We have ten small labs, for work on small-scale projects and items, three large labs, a testing facility that is similar to the one Mr. Cato uses, and a comprehensive reference library." The elevator announced their arrival on the fifth floor with a _ding_ , and Dr. Devres gestured for Quistis to go ahead. "See for yourself."

Quistis exited the elevator and found herself looking through a set of glass double-doors at a long room filled with tall shelves. The reference library. The hallway branched in front of her, and ran along either side of the library. Dr. Devres turned right, and Quistis followed him, down a hallway flanked on one side by a series of small laboratories. Along the way, Dr. Devres explained the projects the department was working on at the moment, and introduced Quistis to her new co-workers as they encountered them.

With each smile, nod, and greeting, however, Quistis felt smaller, and old insecurities returned, gnawing at her confidence. All of the people she met had worked hard to get here. They held degrees from the university, they had spent years in a laboratory setting, most of them had probably aspired to work here all their lives. She imagined at least a few of them must regard her with well-concealed disdain, a novice who swept in on a tide of luck, considered not for her results but for her potential, hired not so much as a researcher, but as a competitive investment in a burgeoning international market.

Her stomach turned, and she felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. By the time she and Dr. Devres finished the tour, ending up in front of the elevator once more, her mouth had gone dry, and cold sweat prickled along her spine.

Dr. Devres noticed her discomfort, and asked what was the matter.

"This really is an impressive facility," Quistis began, "and the researchers you employ are obviously extremely competent. They must have spent years developing their knowledge and skills, and by comparison, I hardly feel deserving of this position. Truthfully, I feel a bit like a fraud."

"Nonsense." Dr. Devres looked her in the eyes. "You wouldn't be here if either Dr. Mohren or I believed you didn't belong. You have the intelligence and the drive to succeed. You simply need to catch up in the practical aspects of this job, and I believe that hands-on experience is the best teacher. Nobody expects you to know everything, and the researchers working on the project I've assigned you to understand that you might need a little guidance at first. We're confident that you can make the necessary adjustments and learn what you need to." He smiled. "Pretty soon, you'll find your footing and wonder just what you were so worried about. The hard part is getting started; but by committing to this position and making the move out here, you're halfway through that part already. Just relax and take it one day at a time."

"Thank you." Quistis could not shake her anxiety, but Dr. Devres' words carried a finality that suggested he was done discussing the topic.

"You're very welcome." He turned, and led her into one of the small laboratories. "Now, to the specifics of your work here. I've assigned you to a project that is dear to me, one I've been preparing for years. It concerns distillates and a new method of delivery of blue magic skills."

"Delivery," Quistis repeated. "Not introduction?"

"Precisely. By experimenting with distillates, we have found that, of the many items and skills that exist in the wild, only a small percentage are absorbable by blue mages. Perhaps your organic affinity hypothesis may be able to expand our range of usable skills, someday, but in the meantime, I'd like you to help us develop another method by which blue mages might supplement their repertoires." He opened a cabinet and pulled out a small box, from which he retrieved something that looked like a bullet, filled with a viscous, colorful liquid. "We have experimented with concentrating a distillate and placing it inside a bullet that, upon impact of a target, simulates a skill used by the creature from which the original skill-bearing item was obtained."

Quistis took the bullet and studied it. "If I may ask, how would the development of this item affect the utility of blue mages? Wouldn't it allow _anyone_ to use blue magic?"

"I'm glad you brought that up. The answer is no. In early trials, we discovered that the concentration of distillate necessary to deliver the skill was so high as to cause adverse affects in users who were not blue mages. Simply handling the items, over a short period of time, caused headaches, nausea, and, in some cases, hallucinations. All subjects fully recovered after ceasing use of the bullets." Dr. Devres reclaimed the bullet and placed it back in the box. "Bad news for them, great news for us. Essentially, these bullets give blue mages more flexibility on the battlefield. Not only will they have more skills at their disposal, but they will also not need to remain in critical status to employ these skills. In that way, we are increasing the utility of the blue mage, and allowing them to participate more fully through the use of their specific talents."

"That's very intriguing. What will be my role in this project?"

"You will spend the first week familiarizing yourself with prior research on this matter and the history of the project's development. Then, you will help facilitate the trials, which entails a variety of duties: you will observe and log results, determine and adjust the volume and concentration of distillate in the test bullets as necessary, and determine which items from various species bear a useable skill." Dr. Devres grinned. "Once you gain some experience with these procedures, you will find that they are not very difficult, and they should be a good introduction to working here at O. Labs. Do you have any other questions, at the moment?"

"No, doctor."

"Then let's get you started! Follow me, and I'll show you where we keep the reports for this project."

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Dr. Devres was right. Quistis soon found her place among the other researchers at Odine Laboratories, who regarded her not with the disdain she had feared, but with genuine curiosity as one of the few employees who'd grown up outside of Esthar. They were patient with her, and she repaid that patience by devoting herself to catching up as quickly as possible. By the end of her second week, she had assisted in several trials of the blue magic bullets, and was learning to identify the results of various concentrations of distillates. Still, she was caught off-guard when Dr. Devres arrived to receive updates on the project, and the researcher with whom Quistis was working stepped aside to let her field the doctor's questions.

"What are the results of the tests of the distillate from the Glacial Eye's spike?" Dr. Devres asked.

"A concentration of fifty to sixty percent of total volume was determined to be the most effective," Quistis answered.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

Quistis explained the various concentrations they experimented with, and the results of each. "We discovered that this distillate can confer a single-target offensive skill similar to a mid-level ice spell, but that at concentrations lower than fifty percent, the result is negligible. At concentrations above sixty-five percent, however, the amount of energy generated caused collateral damage to other members of the user's party. To avoid that scenario, we therefore recommend an upper limit of sixty percent of volume."

"Excellent. Thank you for the update. Carry on."

Quistis relaxed and glanced over her shoulder at the other researcher, who smiled and made a gesture of approval.

That evening, Quistis returned to her apartment and found a package waiting for her. The textbooks she had ordered from the university had arrived. She sorted the books by course, and flipped through them, alternating between apprehension and excitement. A new session of expedited courses was starting next week, and she had enrolled in two. The hard work was just beginning for her, but she welcomed the challenge, the opportunity to expand her knowledge and grow into the life that was opening up before her.

She sat back on the couch with a satisfied sigh and looked around her apartment. The figurine of Wilbur now stood at one end of a row of books, Argider's note still tucked through the loop on its back. Quistis loved the freedom of a having a space to call her own, and she was beginning to feel a sense of comfort and warmth there similar to that which she'd felt in Retta's apartment. But she was not ready to call her own apartment home. Not yet.

 _Home_. The word was so small, but so loaded with implications and emotions that both intimidated and delighted her. It was something she'd never dared imagine for herself, and something she was afraid might be a dream. Growing up in Garden, she became used to the ephemerality of places and objects and even people, and she sometimes felt that the life she'd built around her now was an illusion woven of gossamer, and just saying the word she'd longed to understand might break it.

So, for now, she would refrain from calling her space a home. But she knew that one day, the word would slip from her unbidden, unencumbered by the shadows of her past. One day, she would wake and realize that she was whole again, that the direction in which she moved wasn't just away from Garden, but also toward a full and rewarding life. A life worth looking forward to, a life worth sharing with someone else.

 _One day_.

She felt no need to rush, for she finally understood what she had fought for those years ago, what she and her friends had won: time enough to build a bright future, time enough to truly live.


	11. Epilogue

_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

 **Epilogue**

The early evening sun shone into Quistis' face from between the tall, glass-faced buildings surrounding her. She squinted in its rays and wiped at a drop of sweat sliding down her temple. It had been almost a year since she'd gotten lost while following Wilbur, and Quistis had convinced herself that she'd adapted to the Estharian climate in the meantime. The arrival of summer proved otherwise.

Nevertheless, she did not let the heat wilt her spirits. She smiled at the shopkeepers and other pedestrians she passed on her way to the library, greeting those she recognized by name, stopping to chat with a few of them. She was met by a rush of cool air as she stepped through the second set of library doors, and came upon a lonely front desk with a bell and a sign in Retta's place.

It was time for the library's annual inventory, and for the past two weeks, Retta and Argider had foregone their usual duties to complete the daunting task, working twelve-hour days to ensure the job remained on schedule. Argider was kneeling, squinting at spines along a bottom shelf and reading call numbers to Retta, when Quistis found them. She was about to slink away to let them finish their work, when he glanced over his shoulder and noticed her.

"Hey, Quistis," he said, a broad smile lighting up his face. "How was your day?"

"Eyes on the shelf, mister," said Retta, jabbing her pencil in the air and looking over the inventory list. "I want to get this done today. You can talk to Quistis later." She grinned and turned toward Quistis, but did not raise her eyes from the list. "So, how _was_ your day? Did you make any revolutionary discoveries?"

"Not today, I'm afraid." Quistis laughed. "Maybe next week. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll head to the front to work on my course assignments until closing."

"Go ahead, and we'll join you in a while. This is the last shelf. Finally!" Retta gave a subdued whoop of celebration.

Quistis sat down at the table closest to the front desk and pulled a textbook from her bag. She was nearly finished reading and taking notes on the assigned chapter when she heard Retta and Argider approaching.

"Thank goodness that's done," Retta said, tossing her clipboard onto the desk. "Is there a specific reason we have to do this _every_ year? Our clientele is so small compared to the central library's, every two years would be fine."

"It's all bureaucratic," Argider replied. "The amount of funding we receive depends on how well we maintain the library, and how often our items circulate, and the government needs records to justify our budget."

"Perhaps you could show them that our collections don't change so drastically from year to year. Put together a presentation detailing our previous inventories."

"This library hasn't existed long enough. I can see it now: they'd tell me there's insufficient data to support such a conclusion, then laugh me out of the room."

"I don't know how you put up with those bureaucrats. I wouldn't last a minute without giving them a piece of my mind."

"And that's why it's my job and not yours, Retta." He looked toward Quistis and smiled. "But enough of this talk. I think we're both due for a little break. Would Ms. Trepe mind some company?"

"Not at all." Quistis cleared away her books as Retta and Argider sat down. "Congratulations on finishing the inventory. You both look so relieved."

"I'll bet you are, too," Retta said. "I imagine last weekend was particularly dull, what with Argider leaving here exhausted."

"Actually ..." Quistis looked at Argider and trailed off. Then, she put on her best insincere frown and nodded solemnly. "Yes, it was. Very quiet, very boring."

"Uh-huh." Retta laughed. "Don't worry, I won't ask for details. I guess you youngsters bounce back pretty quickly."

"You're far from old, Retta."

"And you're far too kind. I was already in school when Adel took power. People like myself can't exactly call ourselves young." She sighed and glanced at Quistis' textbook. "But that's neither here nor there. I thought I heard you mention coursework earlier, and I see I wasn't mistaken. Another class, even over summer break?"

"Yes. I want to progress toward my degree as quickly as possible. While my coworkers have been nothing but kind to me, I still feel awkward having no academic credentials."

"I thought O. Labs only paid for six courses per semester," Argider said, sliding the book toward himself and flipping through it.

"They do. I paid for this course myself."

"That's dedication."

"That's the path to burnout, if you're not careful," Retta warned. "Take care of yourself."

"We've had that conversation before. Quistis knows what she's doing, even if it seems irresponsible on the surface." He grinned at her. "What was it, again, responsible irresponsibility?"

Quistis chuckled. "Something like that. I can't believe you remembered."

Retta reached over and lifted the cover of the book to read the title. " _Blue Mage Genetics_. Interesting. So, have you found out what makes you tick?"

"A recessive genotype." Quistis shrugged.

"Kind of a let-down, isn't it?" Argider said.

"Indeed. Blue magic is fairly complex, so I imagined the inner workings of blue mages must be, as well."

Retta raised her finger. "Wait a minute," she said. "You're telling me that the principle by which you two can shoot lasers and spew fire and whatnot is the same principle by which Quistis got her blue eyes?"

"That's about it," Quistis said. "Anyone who possesses this genotype is able to use blue magic, though variations in skill strength can occur with the presence of another allele on the X chromosome."

"In that case, I assume blue mages make up a noticeable percentage of the population."

"Yes, but many are unaware that they are blue mages. Since our skills are triggered by our responses to life-threatening situations, most blue mages will never realize they possess any skills, unless put in that situation or subjected to tests specifically searching for the genotype. This also helps to explain why there are so many active blue mages here in Esthar, compared to other parts of the world. The combination of an isolated society and the conscription of young adults into the military means not only a higher chance of inheritance of the recessive genotype, but also a higher chance of detection."

"Through blood work," Argider added, anticipating Retta's question. "That's how I found out I was a blue mage. The army specifically tests for that. None of my immediate family is one, but my parents are carriers."

Retta turned to Quistis. "What about you?"

Quistis smiled wryly. "I found out the hard way. All SeeDs have a powerful desperation attack that activates when we are in critical status. Garden calls them Limit Breaks, and tests for them by pushing SeeD candidates to their limits. Let me just say that I would have preferred a poke in the arm to what my test entailed." An awkward silence followed, and she rushed to fill it. "It also would've been interesting to find out whether my parents had this skill, latent or not. I don't know anything about them; I don't even know where I come from."

Retta offered words of condolence, but Argider looked thoughtful. "You know," he said at last, "there might be a way to find out, at least a little bit. Are you familiar with the hypothesis of innate skill origins?"

Quistis nodded. "Dr. Devres gave me a brief overview. If I understand it correctly, the researchers working on that project aim to determine the geographical origins of our individual lineages by mapping the occurrences of innate skills."

"That's right."

Retta leaned forward. "I may not have a head for science, but I'm intrigued. What do you consider an innate skill?"

"One that doesn't require an item to learn," Quistis explained. "Mine was Laser Eye. It came in pretty handy during my early training."

"I'm a little envious," Argider said. "That skill's amazing. Mine was boring: White Wind, extensively mapped in the Nortes Mountains. No mystery here." He paused. "The researchers periodically put out requests for new samples. Perhaps you could provide yours. The project will take a lot of time, and a lot of cooperation from other countries, so it will be years before your skill is mapped definitively, but at least it's a step toward finding out."

"True. I'll think about it."

"No pressure. I just wanted you to be aware of the options." He turned toward Retta. "Sorry for boring you, Retta. I'm sure this wasn't your idea of a relaxing break."

"It's fine by me," Retta said. "Anything that doesn't involve standing for hours on end and staring at tiny numbers is a break for me. But I'm afraid it's over now. I have to input the changes into the system and file the final report before closing."

"I can take care of that. Why don't you head home early tonight? I'm sure you've got some last-minute preparations to attend to."

"Oh, do I ever! The problem with leaving the boys with Haren is that he becomes one of them himself. Tasks go undone while the three of them play airship pirates or something."

"Preparations?" Quistis asked.

"It's vacation time for dear old Retta. I take one every year after inventory is completed. Usually, we just head up to the mountains to escape the heat, but this year Haren and I decided to be adventurous and try international travel."

"Where to?"

"We're going to spend a few days in Winhill. I've heard wonderful things about the area. You've been there, correct?"

"Yes, and it is lovely. It's quiet, the flowers are beautiful, and there's plenty of room for your sons to run out their energy. Are you going anywhere else afterward?"

"Yes. Balamb." Quistis' eyes widened and Retta grinned. "Your friends sold me on the idea. Especially the pilot – Selphie, is it? – she was so excited about a Ms. Moogle's cake."

"It's just a cake with fruit and whipped cream."

"Perhaps, but anything that elicits such a reaction is bound to be quite tasty, at the very least. Do you have any recommendations for me? Any tips?"

Quistis mentioned her favorite restaurant and shops, and suggested a day's drive around the island to take in the scenery. She wrote down names and directions and handed them to Retta.

"Thank you very much! It's always nice to get an insider's perspective."

Retta collected her belongings and bid them farewell. Argider returned to the front desk to complete his work, and Quistis remained at the table to to do the same. A few patrons wandered in during the last hour, and leisurely browsed the shelves before heading out, empty-handed, to the restaurants and shops nearby.

"It's finally the weekend," Argider said as he locked up the library. "What would you like to do?"

Quistis adjusted the strap of her bag. "Nothing in particular. Besides, I'm sure you would like to get some rest. You've been here since early this morning. Aren't you tired?"

"A little. But I did want to spend some time with you this evening. If you're not too busy or tired, yourself."

"I'm not. In that case, though, we should probably do something relatively quiet and relaxing."

"Like grabbing some takeout and watching a movie?"

"That sounds perfect." She slipped her arm through his, and, bathed in the colorful glow of storefront signs, they walked through the crowd of people beginning their weekend revelry.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Quistis woke to the rhythm of Argider's breathing, her head resting on his chest.

His decidedly clothed chest.

She blinked and looked around. They were both still in their work clothes, sprawled across the couch in Argider's apartment, while the monitor on the wall across from them had entered its idle animation. She tried to remember which movie they'd begun watching the night before, but to no avail; apparently, their Friday evening had ended far earlier than either of them had hoped.

Argider stirred and groaned. He opened his eyes, and when he saw Quistis, he sat up quickly.

"Oh no, I am so sorry," he said, pressing his hands against his eyes, his voice still thick with sleep. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"You and me, both," said Quistis. "You don't have to apologize."

For several minutes, the two of them sat there, swaying and blinking and shaking their heads to clear away the cobwebs of sleep. Finally, Argider pressed a button on the monitor's remote control and squinted at the clock on the screen.

"Four thirty-six," he read. "I haven't been up this early in years." He glanced at Quistis. "I'll bet you're used to it, though."

"Not anymore," she said.

"I guess some old habits actually die pretty easily." He stretched. "Well, since we're up, how about I make us some coffee?"

"That would be great." Quistis rolled the stiffness out of her shoulders and massaged her calves, feeling the effects of having fallen asleep in such an awkward position.

"You know," Argider said, coming back from the kitchen a few minutes later, a steaming mug in each hand, "we can still salvage our weekend. Do you have any plans for today?"

"I have a few errands to run, and some light studying, but my evening is free." She frowned at her wrinkled blouse. "Before all that, though, I'll definitely need to go back to my apartment and get changed. I hadn't planned on spending the night. At least not in these clothes," she added mischievously.

Argider snickered. "There's an iron and ironing board in the bedroom closet, left-hand side, if you want to use them," he offered.

"Thank you. But I still have to head back."

"I know that. I just figured you wouldn't want to make the trip in wrinkled clothes. People can be judgmental."

"That's true. You're very thoughtful. Very … gallant."

They shared a smile, then sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee. Quistis studied Argider's profile, his disheveled hair and the light stubble coming in across his cheek, and felt a surge of tenderness. She leaned toward him and kissed him quickly below the jaw, giggling when he started from the contact. He turned toward her with a lopsided grin and responded in kind, and so began a sensual game of one-upmanship, scored by gasps, sighs, and quiet laughter. When they finally reached for their cups once more, the coffee had grown cold.

"You don't need hot drinks in the summertime, anyway," Argider said, and downed his remaining coffee in several gulps.

Quistis nodded and swallowed a mouthful of coffee, letting its strong flavor bring her feet back to the ground after that little interlude.

After Argider had cleared away the coffee mugs and Quistis had pressed her clothes, they stayed together a while longer, talking softly, until the sunlight began seeping through the slats in the blinds.

"I wonder if Retta's left Esthar yet," Quistis mused.

"Probably. A flight as long as hers would likely leave quite early. I admire her and Haren for traveling abroad. It's an adventurous concept for us Estharians."

"Have you ever considered it?"

"I have. I just always found some reason not to. Work, cost, indecisiveness."

"Indecisiveness? A take-charge person like yourself?"

"Unbelievable, I know." Argider chuckled. "But think of it this way: you spend your whole life confined to an isolated country without giving much thought to the world outside. Then, one day, that whole world opens up to you. And you realize there's so much you haven't seen or experienced, so many different people and places than the ones you've always known. Where do you start?"

"I guess you just _do._ " Quistis shrugged. "I'll admit, the only reason I've traveled so widely was for my job. Most of the places I visited as a SeeD, I haven't returned to as a civilian. I think I understand where you're coming from. Even though the whole world was open to me, I never felt free to explore it, and now that I am … I think the amount of choices can be overwhelming."

"Hmm." Argider gave her a sidelong glance, one eyebrow raised, a grin tugging at his lips. "You've worked for O. Labs for several months now, right?"

"Yes, four. Why do you ask?"

"So, you're eligible for vacation leave soon, correct?"

"In about two months." She smiled. "A week before my birthday."

"Really? What do you say we celebrate it with a little –"

"Trip of our own? I'd love to. Where shall we go?"

Argider held up his hands and shook his head. "Oh no, this is your field of expertise."

"I'm hardly an expert."

"Compared to me, you are. But, if you need a few ideas to get started, what about Winhill? You told Retta it was a nice place."

"It is, but there's not much to do there." She noticed Argider begin to speak, and pressed a finger to his lips. "Yes, I know we can always _find_ something to do, but I figure if we're going to spend the time and money for this trip, we'd probably like to see more than flower fields and a hotel room."

Argider laughed and kissed her fingertip. "You're right. Where else, then? I assume you're not ready to go back to Balamb."

"Goodness, no! That will take a few years, if ever." Quistis thought for a few moments. "I've always been partial to Dollet. It has beautiful architecture, several museums, and very nice shops and restaurants, including one right on the harbor. The ocean is an attraction in itself, especially at sunset."

"I'll bet. It sounds wonderful. Dollet it is, then."

"I'm looking forward to it." She sighed and stretched. "But I do believe it's time to get back to my apartment. As tempting as it is to laze around all day, I'd like to get something accomplished so I can enjoy this evening."

Argider walked her to the lift station, under the light of a morning sun that was already too warm, coaxing back the sleepiness they thought they'd dispelled with the coffee. He made some mention of her coursework, and she recalled the conversation they'd had the previous day.

"I've been thinking," Quistis said, "about the innate skill origins project. It sounds intriguing, but I'm not sure I'd like to participate. Or, perhaps I could give my sample, for the sake of research, but not find out my results."

"That's fine," Argider replied. "It was only a suggestion."

"I understand, but that's not quite it. It's incredibly tempting to fill in the missing pieces of my past, but I'm afraid all that can do is make me resentful of the life I might have had. I have too much to love about my life right now to mar it with useless questions." She stopped at the stairs to the lift platform and looked up at Argider. He tilted his head questioningly, but said nothing.

"My life could have been different," she went on. "Maybe there wouldn't have been so much hardship, so much pain. But where would I be now? No, I think I'll let that mystery rest for the time being. The past I do remember was very difficult, but it's led me to exactly where I want to be." She reached down and grasped his hands. "If I could go back and change my past, knowing where I'd end up, I wouldn't change a thing. I'd go through everything again, a hundred times over, to be here now. To be here, with you."

Argider stared at her, blinking rapidly to clear away tears. Then, he pulled her close and held her tight, laughing into her shoulder, kissing her above the collar of her blouse. He leaned back to look in her eyes. "Suddenly, 'I love you' doesn't seem like enough," he said. "But it's all I've got right now."

"It's more than enough." She kissed him lightly. "Let's enjoy our present, and our future. Someday, we might find out where Laser Eye innate blue mages come from, but that little scrap of information has no bearing on who I am now."

They hugged once more as a lift pulled up to the platform. She boarded it, waved to him as the shield formed, and settled in for the short ride from his neighborhood to hers.

When she reached her apartment, she entered and flung her bag toward the couch. It landed awkwardly against the arm and tumbled to the floor. Grumbling, she bent to retrieve it, and came face-to-face with herself, smiling back from her Odine Laboratories ID badge. Quistis sunk to the floor and studied her badge, this plastic rectangle with her photo, her name, and her title, and felt a strange warmth fill her heart and spread throughout her body.

The person on the badge wasn't just a name, wasn't just a face, wasn't just a million tiny pieces shoved together in the semblance of a person. There was meaning to the name now, a purpose behind the face, a broken past held together by the brilliant present, its cracks and gaps filled with happiness and comfort, smoothed over and polished by the very real promise of a bright and fulfilling future.

She was whole again.

After all the challenges and change, she'd finally become who she was meant to be. She was finally somewhere she belonged. She looked around her apartment, at her little kitchen table, stacked with a computer and some notebooks; at her bookcase that was slowly being filled; at the figurine of Wilbur, glinting in the sunlight; and she felt it, at long last. This wasn't an apartment, it was a _home_.

Quistis Trepe was home.

•·•·• THE END •·•·•

* * *

 _I would like to thank those who read, reviewed, and otherwise supported this story. It was a first for me in many ways, and I really enjoyed the journey. Thank you for taking it with me! :)_


End file.
